


Inquisition Friendfiction Club

by Icetigris



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age - All Media Types, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: F/M, Female Friendship, Fluff, Gen, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Implied Relationships, M/M, Metafiction, Snowboarding, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-08
Updated: 2015-03-22
Packaged: 2018-03-06 15:45:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 20,621
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3139823
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Icetigris/pseuds/Icetigris
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Inspired by Varric's work, Cassandra "Closet Fangirl" Pentaghast decides to try her hand at writing fluffy friendfiction for practice, but the Seeker's not very good at keeping secrets. Other members of the Inquisition find out and offer their own brand of "help" to improve the story, all while keeping it a secret from Inquisitor Elessiel Lavellan and Solas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Closet Fangirl

**Author's Note:**

> Okay so I don't know if I'm going to put actual DIRTY STUFF in here yet, but I will update the tags if I do.
> 
> To elaborate on the ships in here:  
> DEFINITELY Lavellan/Solas  
> Cullen has a HUEG crush on Lavellan, but she's with Solas so :')  
> Iron Bull/Dorian, but it's not really a focus or anything
> 
> BONUS: Cassandra and Josephine become bff

Cassandra was holed up in her makeshift office. Golden light from the setting sun filtered through the windows and warmed her back. She was hunched over a pile of papers, completely absorbed in the act of writing. A stifled grin spread across her face and she bit her lip, scrawling raw ideas as they flowed.

She didn’t hear the door creak open or the light footfalls of someone coming up the stairs. Cassandra reread one of the pages she had just written and _giggled_.

"Ah, there you are, I hope I am not interrupting your work?" Josephine began as she ascended the last step and strode to Cassandra’s desk.

Cassandra jumped, hastily collected the pages she had been writing, and stuffed them under the nearest book she could find. “Josephine…ah, no, I am not busy right now. Do you need something?”

"Nothing in particular, you mentioned you had a report and some dossiers from Leliana you wanted to discuss."

"Yes, let me get the packet." Cassandra stood and turned to retrieve something from the window sill. As she rummaged through some folders, Josephine leaned over and plucked one of the barely dry pages out from under Cassandra’s copy of _Swords and Shields_. ”Here it is. It seems there is a growing Venatori cell in the—”

“ _He whispered sweet nothings into her golden hair, the starlight reflecting a million diamond points in their cups. ‘Do you think there could be creatures just like us out in the stars somewhere?’ she mused, blowing on the steam rising from between her hands. ‘Sure, I don’t see why not. There have been—_ ”

"Give me that!" Cassandra snatched the paper from Josephine’s clipboard, turning bright red as the lady ambassador laughed. "That is  _strictly_ for practice and is not meant to be seen by  _anyone_.”

Josephine was nearly in tears. “Oh, Cassandra, no need to be so defensive, it’s adorable! What are you planning on writing?”

"It’s nothing, forget about it." Cassandra set the page down and rubbed her eyes. Josephine took the opportunity to liberate a few more pages from under the book.

"Maker’s breath, are you writing about _the Inquisitor_?!” Josephine gasped. Cassandra lunged for the papers, but Josephine dodged her. “Your dialogue could use some work.”

"JOSEPHINE!!"

Josephine put on her most diplomatic airs. “I’d be happy to help, if you need the services of an editor.” The corner of her mouth quirked up ever so slightly, suppressing a grin.

Cassandra was stunned. She considered it for a moment, looked to make sure nobody was coming up the stairs, then dropped her voice to almost a whisper. “All right, if you want to help with the dialogue, I would be glad to have you edit it.  _Do not breathe a word of this to anyone_.”

"You can count on me." Josephine smiled sweetly. "Now about those dossiers…"


	2. Three's a Crowd

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A new contributor gets in on the action and Cassandra has to rethink security measures.

Cassandra walked into Josephine’s office to ask about timing for their next editing and brainstorming session. She didn’t really have a legitimate reason to be there, so when she saw Inquisitor Lavellan talking with Josephine, she nearly spun on her heel and walked straight back outside, but she had been noticed.

"Hey Cassandra, what’s up?" Elessiel asked. "Josephine was just telling me this hilarious story." Cassandra went white as a sheet and looked Josephine straight in the eye. Elessiel continued, not seeming to notice the Seeker’s anxiety. "Some jackass noble up in Highever,  _man_! What an asshole. You should ask her to tell you the story. Anyway, I’ll leave you to it. I’ll be in the library.”

Cassandra sighed with relief as she shut the door behind her. Josephine giggled. “She is no doubt headed to the rotunda.”

"Oh, I know." Cassandra smirked. "She and Solas are smitten with each other. You should see them on the battlefield."

"Are you going to write about it?" Josephine asked. Cassandra couldn’t quite suppress a smirk as she shushed her.

"Tonight in the same place?" asked Cassandra in a low voice.

"Most certainly," Josephine confirmed with the most business-like tone she could muster.

Cassandra returned to her office and started writing, eagerly awaiting Josephine’s arrival. She didn’t have to wait very long; Josephine appeared at the top of the stairs with a notebook and a bottle of something just as the sun set. “I brought a nice Antivan red. They say a little wine is good to get the creative juices flowing.”

Cassandra smirked, and traded a stack of papers for the bottle of wine. “Thank you, Josephine, I really appreciate this.” She poured them each a glass and got to work.

This went on for a few nights in a row. Cassandra would end her day by going back to her office and writing, Josephine would meet her with edits from the previous night and a nice bottle of something from the cellars or her personal collection, and then they would stay up too late writing, scheming about the story or getting on tangents, and getting more than a little tipsy.

It was the fifth night in a row they’d gotten together. They were about 3 hours and half a bottle of a nice Rivaini port into the evening.

"I think you should make Elessiel swear more here, she is certainly liberal with swearing when she’s excited in real life," said Josephine of a recent piece of writing.

"Yes, but do you think she would swear if Solas gave her a pet bird? I wouldn’t," said Cassandra.

"Cassandra, first of all, you have seen our Lady Inquisitor get excited about gifts, have you not?"

"No…"

"I can assure you, if Solas were to give her a pet bird, she would not hesitate to invoke the name of every god in vain so that she could sufficiently channel her excitement. Secondly, did you know that the bird you are describing can mimic our language?"

"That I did know. You don’t really think…?"

"Let’s be honest here, Inquisitor Lavellan would sooner teach a bird to call you a rude name than to say hello," said Josephine. Cassandra nodded, then they both started laughing uncontrollably at the thought.

While Cassandra and Josephine discussed the nuances of their colleagues’ speech mannerisms, the door downstairs opened. A few minutes passed and their discussion moved onto other things.

"I am not going to write that."

"Oh come on, Cassandra! You’re writing a cute, romantic story. You  _have_ to have Solas kiss her!”

"Oh, hello ladies, what are you doing up here so late?" asked a cheerful voice.

Josephine and Cassandra froze.

It was Dagna.

Cassandra rose from her seat, wobbling slightly. “We could ask the same of you, _Dagna_ ,” replied Josephine, intervening. “What brings you here on this fine evening?”

"Oh, not much. I was just looking for a bag of saltpeter, you know, potassium nitrate. Or was it ammonium nitrate? It’s a…little bit explosive, not too bad in controlled amounts!" Dagna began. "Harritt said there might be a bag of it in here. I need some for an experiment," Dagna continued. Josephine and Cassandra cast nervous glances at each other. "Anyway, I heard you two talking and thought I’d say hello! Sounds like you’re working on a fun story. I think the Inquisitor and Solas are really cute together!" Dagna giggled.

"Oh Maker, you heard all of that?" Cassandra dropped her face into her hands.

"Dagna…" Josephine began, but was immediately cut off.

Dagna giggled. “Oh, yes! It’s delightful! I think you should definitely write the kissing scene, Lady Seeker! Though, if you don’t mind my saying, since they’re both very talented mages, I think there should be some more magic written into the story, just to give it a little depth, you know, to make it more true to life. If you like, I could write it for you! I know a lot about magic, and I’ve talked to the Lady Inquisitor about her magic before, so—”

Cassandra let out one of her signature disgusted noises. "Dagna, knowledge of this story must remain absolutely secret."

"Oh, I know, I wouldn’t dream of telling the Lady Inquisitor about—"

“ _Absolutely secret_. You cannot tell  _anyone_ ,” Cassandra growled.

Josephine rose to her feet, steadying herself with a hand on the back of her chair. She could tell that Dagna was excited about this story. If her diplomatic experience told her anything, it was that it was better to hold threats close to you, where you could see them. “Dagna, can you promise that, if you collaborate with us, that you will not tell another living soul about this project?”

Dagna looked her straight in the eye, nodded with the most serious look she could muster, and held out her hand. “You have my word, Lady Ambassador.”

Josephine shook her hand and smiled. “All right then. What do you have in mind?”

Cassandra knocked back the rest of her glass and refilled it.


	3. Everything Went Better Than Expected

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The new security measures didn't work, but what did you honestly expect?

The next morning was a rough one for Cassandra. She was more than a little hungover and she now had to figure out a way to integrate Dagna’s long, rambling, overly-detailed scenes about Elessiel and Solas’s magic into her story. 

"Ugh, this was just supposed to be for fun and practice," she muttered to herself as she trudged through Skyhold’s great hall.

"Long night, Seeker?"

Varric. Her lip curled in disgust. “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

"Oh come on, Seeker, writing reports couldn’t have been  _that_ bad,” said Varric as he matched her pace.

"What makes you think I was writing?" she asked incredulously. Her heart jumped into her throat. He couldn’t know, could he?

"Well, unless the black smudge on your face is a new way to wear eyeliner, I’d hazard a guess that you had a _lot_ of ink on your hands last night. And I say last night because I can tell when someone’s just rolled out of bed with a hangover.”

Cassandra stared at him, defeated by his powers of observation. He pointed to a spot on his cheek. She rubbed the corresponding spot on her face with a finger, which came up black.

"Here too," Varric said, pointing to his chin.

She frowned and rubbed the smudge with the back of her hand. “Thank you, Varric. I suppose I should go get cleaned up properly…”

"Don’t mention it. Though, what were you working on that was so bad that it had you up drinking?" Varric asked with genuine concern in his voice.

Cassandra cringed at the word “bad”. “It’s nothing that important, please don’t worry about it.”

Varric raised an eyebrow. “Alright, suit yourself, Seeker.” He watched her leave the great hall, then rubbed his chin; there was something going on and he was determined to find out what it was.

He opened the door to Josephine’s office. She was mid-yawn as he approached her desk. “Morning, Ruffles. Sleep well?”

"Oh! Varric, good morning. I suppose not," said Josephine. "What can I do for you?"

A corner of Varric’s mouth quirked upwards. “Nothing too major, just a question about our Seeker for you.”

"Is something the matter?" Josephine had a much better poker face than Cassandra. Ruffling her would be a challenge.

"Not exactly. I’m just curious: have you and Cassandra been working on anything lately?" Varric looked for her tells. Thankfully, he’d played enough Wicked Grace with her to know what to look for.

Josephine blinked and cleared her throat. “Nothing apart from the usual. There are some Venatori cells trying to infiltrate some noble circles in Highever that we have been discussing, however.”

Varric smirked and leaned against a nearby bookshelf. “Ruffles, you’re not telling me something.”

"I am not sure what you are talking about." Josephine busied herself with some papers.

Varric laid out his hand. “I saw our Seeker doing a sort of walk of shame through the great hall this morning, hungover and covered in ink. I thought you might know something about that, since you seem to have had about the same amount of sleep.”

Josephine sighed. “Varric, this isn’t any of your concern.”

"Isn’t it? How are we going to take on hordes of Red Templars and crazed Tevinters if she’s in a state like that?"

"Varric, it’s not—" she sighed and rubbed her temples. "I suppose you are right to be concerned. Alright, we’ll try not to stay up so late working."

Varric nodded and pushed off from the bookshelf. “Thanks Ruffles. You take care of yourself too.”

"Thank you, Varric."

Varric smirked as he closed the door behind him. He knew there was more to this than either of them were telling him, and with both of them in a bit of a state, he knew it would be easy to catch them off-guard.

As the day wore on, Varric quietly kept tabs on Cassandra and Josephine. Other than their apparent exhaustion, which other members of the Inquisition seemed to notice, nothing seemed out of the ordinary. Cassandra trained in the yard with recruits and discussed strategy with Commander Cullen, Josephine met with visiting dignitaries and answered letters. It wasn’t until the inhabitants of Skyhold began retiring for the evening, when Josephine headed in the direction of the cellars with a bundle of papers in hand, that things started to get interesting.

Varric tailed the young ambassador, keeping to the shadows. He saw her emerge from the cellar with a bottle of Orlesian wine, a nice white from Montfort, obviously chilled, and three glasses. Why three?

He watched her head up to where Cassandra kept a makeshift office. Interesting. Josephine locked the door behind her. He listened under the window for a few minutes, waiting for a good opportunity to pick the lock and slip inside. It came as the three women raised their voices excitedly over something. Were they…squealing?

Varric slipped inside and relocked the door behind him.

"…do you really think he would do that?" Cassandra asked.

"I don’t see why not, I think it would be cute!" a cheerful voice with an Orzammar accent replied.

Josephine giggled. “I could see Solas making flowers out of ice. Dagna, is it possible to make colored ice with magic?”

"Absolutely! Ohh, you know what he could do? He could make  _iridescent_ ice flowers! One time the Lady Inquisitor told me she really liked iridescent stones.” _  
_

Cassandra chuckled. “Perhaps I should find a way to pass that information on to Solas.” The sound of wine being poured and paper shuffling echoed down the stairwell.

"Am I to understand that you three have been staying up writing a _romance novel_ about the Inquisitor?” Varric asked as he sauntered up the stairs.

“ **VARRIC!** " Cassandra roared. Josephine and Dagna looked at each other sheepishly as Cassandra charged up to the roguish dwarf leaning against the banister. ” _Get out!_ ”

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, Seeker, I’m not judging. I think it’s charming, really," said Varric raising his hands in defense.

"I don’t care what you  _think_ , Varric, I care what you  _know_! No one outside the three of us is  _supposed_ to know about this!” She glared daggers in the direction of Josephine and Dagna. “Which of you told him?!”

"I didn’t tell him! I don’t think I’ve ever even met him before!" cried Dagna.

“ _Josephine?_ " Cassandra angled her head threateningly.

"I didn’t tell him anything! And I locked the door behind me like you suggested!"

"Now, now, no need to get angry at Ruffles or our dwarven friend here. I figured something was up when you turned up this morning hungover, exhausted, and covered in ink, Seeker. It didn’t take much to put the pieces together and follow you here."

Cassandra threw up her hands, walked back to her seat, and collapsed into it. She closed her eyes and rubbed her temples. “ _Ugh_ , what do you want Varric? Why are you here?”

"Well first I was concerned, but now I’m interested." Varric walked up to Cassandra. "I know you’re a fan of my writing, Seeker. What do you say to a collaboration?" He offered his hand.

Cassandra looked at him, stunned. It was true, she was a big fan of his writing, and working with him on a story was sort of a dream come true. On the other hand, this was  _Varric Tethras_. She heaved a colossal sigh and shook his hand. “You know this has to stay secret, right?”

"Of course. You have my word, Seeker."

"All right, Varric. Here’s what we have so far." She dumped a stack of paper in front of him as Josephine fetched a mismatched glass for him.


	4. In for the Long Haul

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra's complete lack of a poker face is becoming a problem.

Cassandra and Josephine were considerably better rested the following morning. Varric had taken the editing into his own hands for the night and ordered them all to bed, promising that he would do his best to preserve the spirit of what was there, as well as mold it to accept what he had in store for it.

Elessiel had left that morning for the Western Approach with Cole, Blackwall, and, of course, Solas. That took a little bit of the pressure off, though the four of them vigilantly kept the project secret in her absence.

Or, at least, they tried to.

Varric stretched and stood up for a quick break. It was midday and he was getting hungry. He collected the pages he had been working on and crammed them between a hefty stack of notebooks and unrelated paperwork, and strolled over to the tavern. Cassandra and Iron Bull were training in the yard as he passed by.

Cassandra, seeing that Varric was heavily laden with written material, dropped her training sword and scurried over to meet him.

"Afternoon, Seeker," Varric greeted her with an air of caution.

"Good afternoon, Varric. Do you, ah, need any help carrying that?" Cassandra could barely contain her eagerness to see what Varric had written.

"Thanks, but I think I’m alright. Nice of you to offer though," Varric kept walking, trying to be as nonchalant as possible. For someone who wanted to keep this project a secret, Cassandra wasn’t doing a very good job of acting like it.

"Have you—" Cassandra began.

"I’m a bit  _busy_ at the moment, but I’ll see you  _later_ , Seeker.” Varric looked away and widened his eyes. Maker, the Seeker had no sense of subtlety.

Cassandra huffed a sigh and turned back towards Iron Bull. “What was that all about?” he asked, handing her the wooden sword she’d dropped.

"Oh, it’s…nothing much. Just keeping tabs, I suppose," Cassandra replied as she took back the sword.

"Right." Iron Bull studied her. "Anything I can help with?"

Cassandra laughed. “You can help me by dodging my strikes a bit faster!”

"Hah! But where’s the fun in that?"

They resumed sparring for a few minutes. Iron Bull tried to abide Cassandra’s request to dodge more often and Cassandra swung harder at him. He ended up sidestepping her and sweeping her off her feet with a low blow that knocked the wind out of her. 

Bull offered his hand and a quick apology. "You know…’dodging more’ doesn’t…usually mean ‘fighting dirty’, Bull." Cassandra said as he pulled her onto her feet. She went straight to the nearest stump to sit and recover.

"What can I say? The Ben-Hassrath training gets to be automatic sometimes," he said with a smirk. "Sorry about that. You okay?"

Cassandra nodded, catching her breath.

"I’m gonna go get a drink, I’ll bring you something. You take it easy," said Iron Bull as he set down the pole he’d been using. Cassandra nodded and leaned back against the wall.

Iron Bull headed over to the tavern to find Varric. He didn’t approach him initially, choosing instead to grab that drink he’d promised Cassandra. He watched the dwarven author having some lunch next to the massive stack of papers he’d brought with him. Varric was looking at a few pages and scrawling some notes, but ignoring the rest of the stack entirely.

Varric noticed that Iron Bull was watching him. The Seeker had already effectively blown their cover to him. Now it was just a matter of damage control. He took a sip of his drink, trying to look as disinterested as possible as the qunari mercenary walked past him with two mugs in hand. When he walked out the door, Varric reflexively untensed. Shit, if he’d _un_ tensed, that means he’d been visibly tense. This wasn’t going to end well.

Just as he was finishing up his lunch, Iron Bull returned. “Hey Varric, how’s it going?”

"Pretty good, lots of work to do. You playing nice out there with the Seeker?"

Iron Bull chuckled. “Not nice enough I guess, just knocked her on her ass. I’m sure the drink will help her recover.” 

"Smart move, you don’t want to get on her bad side," said Varric.

"So I hear." Iron Bull paused to try to get a glance at the pages Varric had set off to the side. "What are you working on?"

Varric knew the qunari spy would be able to smell a lie, so he kept his response as close to the truth as possible. "Oh, you know, the usual. My editor’s been hounding me to finish the next part of _Hard in Hightown_ , so today’s been mostly writing.” 

"Oh yeah? How’s that going?"

"Pretty well, just trying to figure out how to fit some pieces together." Varric stood up. He needed to end this conversation. "Well, I should head back to the great hall to work on it some more. Try not to beat up the Seeker too much."

"Hah! I’d rather she beat me up." Iron Bull grinned. "See you around, Varric." He turned to go sit in his usual spot to finish his drink. Once Varric had safely left the tavern, he got up to find Krem.

Iron Bull leaned against the wall next to him. “What’s up, boss?” asked Krem.

"I need you to do me a favor, Krem."

He cringed. “Oh no, is this a weird favor like last time?”

Iron Bull laughed. “No, nothing like that. I just need you to do some recon around Skyhold.”

"Sounds like you’re up to no good, Bull."

"You know me too well, Krem. Tell you what, do this for me, and drinks are on me for a week."

"I’m listening."

The sun was beginning to set. Varric met Josephine on her way to the cellars to warn her about what had happened earlier in the day.

"Why would Iron Bull care?"

"He’s a Ben-Hassrath spy, it’s his job to be overly observant and suspicious of everything. _I_ didn’t tell him anything, but Cassandra’s behavior got him curious.”

Josephine sighed and rubbed her forehead. “Well, if he shows up, we’ll just have to ask him to leave. This is getting out of hand.”

They took a different route to Cassandra’s office, hoping that would prevent a repeat of Varric’s initiation into the Inquisitor Friendfiction Club. When they got there, Cassandra was livid.

"What is the meaning of this?!" Cassandra slammed a pile of papers down in front of Varric. "This is not what we agreed you’d be writing!"

Varric and Josephine were puzzled. “Seeker, what are you talking about? I have the edits and new stuff right here,” said Varric, waving a small stack of pages.

"Then what is this  _filth_ sitting on my desk?” Cassandra spat.

Josephine picked up the stack of pages and started skimming. Blush shot through her cheeks and her eyes widened. “Oh…oh my! This is…!”

"Pretty good, right?" Iron Bull grinned, his head just poking above the banister railing. "What’s a good romance without a little _nasty sex_?”

Dagna grabbed the pages out of Josephine’s hand and Varric stood next to her to read. Cassandra flew at Iron Bull in a rage.

"HOW DID YOU FIND OUT ABOUT THIS?!?!  _WHO TOLD YOU?!?!?!?!_ ”

"Wow, this is pretty good, Tiny," admitted Varric.

"Do you take commissions?" asked Dagna with her typical eagerness.

Iron Bull chuckled. “Thanks, I haven’t thought about commissions before, but,” he answered as he crossed his arms and leaned against the banister. “To answer your question, Cassandra, nobody told me explicitly, but if I had to name someone, it’d probably be you.”

Cassandra was taken aback. “Me?”

"You were acting strange this morning," said Iron Bull. "I know you and Varric don’t really get along that well, so I did a little reconnaissance."

Varric surrendered the pages to Dagna and walked over to Bull and Cassandra. “But how did you find out enough about what we were up to to write, frankly, really high quality smut? I didn’t let the pages I was working on out of my sight.”

Iron Bull smirked. “Well that’s not entirely true. You know that report that Scout Harding had for you earlier today?”

"Yeah, it was kind of long and involved, but I was right there!" Varric crossed his arms and frowned, trying to think of something he missed.

"Heh, guess you didn’t notice then. I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but did you know Krem has a photographic memory?" Iron Bull watched the color drain from Varric’s face. "He transcribed the outline of the plot you had sitting out,  _and_ all the margin notes. It was easy to attribute handwriting styles, since I have reports penned by all of you except, Dagna was it?”

"At your service!" Dagna replied.

Iron Bull acknowledged her with a nod, a wink, and a smile. “Seemed like a fun little project, so I thought I’d contribute. Krem didn’t seem too interested, so don’t worry about him mentioning it to anyone or anything.”

Cassandra threw up her hands, stomped down the stairs, and slammed the door behind her. Josephine shot Iron Bull a fiery glare and chased after her.

"Cassandra!" She didn’t stop. "Cassandra, please!" Josephine caught up with her to see that the Seeker’s eyes were shining.

"I don’t want to do this project anymore, Josephine! This has gotten _completely_ out of hand. I just wanted to practice writing with a subject and characters I’m comfortable with,” she began, her whole being shaking with rage and frustration. “This was _not_ supposed to become this ridiculous  _group project!_ " she gestured wildly back at the building. "I can barely look the Inquisitor in the eye, let alone _Solas_ , as it is after writing the first part, but after  _that_?!” Cassandra turned away and wiped her eyes. She heaved a shuddering sigh and cast her gaze to the ground. “I appreciate your help Josephine, but we have to end this and burn all the evidence.”

Josephine let Cassandra finish before walking to her front and taking her hand. “I am sorry this became so…complicated, Cassandra, I really am, but are you sure you want to destroy all this work?”

Cassandra hesitated.

"I know this is probably not the most reassuring thing to ask, but truly, what is the worst that could happen?"

Cassandra sniffed and said nothing. It was taking all of her might to keep what composure she had left.

"And what would you lose by ending this project? Please think about the costs and benefits seriously."

Cassandra took a moment to consider and swallowed hard. “The worst that could happen…is that the Inquisitor and Solas could find out about the project, get a hold of the text, oh Maker, I don’t even want to think about it.”

"Yes, that would be…embarrassing, but it doesn’t have to happen. Now what are the benefits of continuing this project?"

Cassandra paused to think. “Well…it has been fun, these past few weeks.”

"Yes," Josephine encouraged. "What else?"

"I think I have already seen my writing improve. And I admit that," she sighed. "I am very excited at the thought of collaborating with Varric. We don’t get along, but I do like his work and…maybe we could become better friends this way."

"Anything else?"

"I…I have had a great deal of fun working with you and getting to know you better, Josephine. The same goes for Dagna. This has been a good escape from the stress of the Inquisition."

Josephine looked her in the eye and smiled. She was in full-on ambassador mode. “So between the—quite preventable—risk of embarrassment from the Inquisitor and Solas finding out about the project, and the benefits of improvement to your writing, camaraderie, stress relief, and overall fun, which do you think is more important?”

Cassandra sighed again. “All right, Josephine, I see your point. You’re right, the benefits outweigh the risks,” she admitted.

Josephine grinned and gave her a little encouraging side hug. “I’m glad you also feel that way. Come! The night is still young, and we have a lot of work to do.”

Cassandra smiled, her eyes still cast toward the ground as Josephine led her back up to her office.

Iron Bull and Dagna exchanged a high-five and Varric smirked as they saw the two women headed back towards them from the window.

"Looks like we got some writing to do!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really like the idea of Krem having a photographic memory and doing all kinds of wacky favors for Iron Bull in exchange for shitty liquor.


	5. Snow Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Everybody gets snowed in and the Friendfiction Club decides to make a night of it, then another leak happens. Who will it be this time??

A blizzard had blown in overnight, blanketing the fortress of Skyhold under nearly a foot of snow. This made it really easy for Cassandra, Josephine, Dagna, Varric, and Iron Bull to justify staying up nearly all night working on the story, and sleeping in the next morning. Iron Bull had kept himself relatively busy in a corner writing about three different versions of a single foreplay scene, while Varric, Josephine, and Cassandra discussed integrating a court intrigue subplot that involved landed Antivan traders, Rivaini pirates, and kidnapping members of the Inquisition. Dagna busied herself with writing up fact sheets about Elessiel’s mark and her specialties in storm and ice magic, and Solas’s specialties in spirit and Fade magic. Occasionally she’d sneak over to Iron Bull to see what he’d written, and to collude with him on integrating some magic into the sex scenes.

Cassandra hadn’t realized how late it had gotten until she saw the blue light of early morning through the snow-caked window. Varric chuckled and pointed to the passed out forms of Iron Bull and Dagna in the corner.

"I don’t want to wake them…" whispered Josephine.

"I think we should at least wake Bull. He’s going to get a cramp in his neck in that position," said Cassandra, smiling through a long yawn.

Varric crept over to Iron Bull and gently patted his arm. The huge qunari mercenary sucked in a mildly startled breath and opened his eye. “Whatime isst?” he grumbled as he stretched.

"Too early," Varric whispered. He put a finger to his lips in a shushing motion and pointed to Dagna, who had fallen asleep against Iron Bull with a pen in her hand. "We should take her back to her quarters." Bull smiled and scooped the dwarf up as she was mumbling something about fireballs in her sleep.

"Do you know where her quarters are?" Iron Bull whispered.

Varric realized he didn’t. “Oh shit.”

Iron Bull chuckled. “Don’t worry about it, she can have my room for the morning. I have another place I can crash.” Varric raised an eyebrow. “Heh, would you mind writing a little note for her though? I don’t want her to wake up in a strange place without an explanation, and I can’t really set her down right now.”

Varric nodded and scrawled a little note for her, then followed Iron Bull out the door to the inn. Once they had gotten Dagna settled in Iron Bull’s room, they said their goodnights (or good mornings, as the case may have been), and Varric headed back to his room as Iron Bull made his way to the tower.

It was eerily quiet in the early morning. Iron Bull shivered as he passed through Solas’s dark, empty study. He tried to keep his footsteps quiet as he headed up the stairs and over to Dorian’s quarters. The door creaked loudly as he crept into his room, but the Tevinter mage was fast asleep, though he didn’t stay that way for long.

"Andraste’s  _tits_ , Bull, what are you doing here this late?” Dorian groaned.

"I’ll tell you later, go back to sleep," said Iron Bull as he settled under the covers with him.

“ _Why_ do I put up with you?” Dorian burrowed back under the covers.

"You know the answer to that question."

Dorian sighed and rolled over. “Yes, all right. But I  _do_ expect an explanation later today.”

They were both passed out again within a few moments of some additional mutual grumbling.

Iron Bull rolled out of bed mid-morning. Dorian had apparently risen a while ago, which Bull was glad for, since he didn’t really want to explain what had happened. He poked his head out the door. The coast was clear. He crept as quietly as a massive qunari warrior could, only to freeze in his tracks at the sound of Dorian’s voice down the hall behind him.

"Ah! Finally awake I see. Care to explain why you felt the need to disturb my beauty rest at some ungodly hour this morning?" Dorian inspected his nails, not even deigning to make eye contact.

"Oh come on, I know you like cuddling," Iron Bull deflected.

Dorian gave him a withering look and crossed his arms.

"I was up late working on something, alright? Don’t worry about it." Iron Bull headed in the direction the kitchens. He wanted to find some warm breakfast before going out in the blizzard again.

Dorian cut him off physically. “You never stay up late working, what’s really going on?”

"Dorian, really, it’s not something worth worrying about."

"If it’s so  _insignificant_ , then tell me why you crawled into my bed at dawn, freezing and smelling like a cellar!” Dorian was raising his voice just a little higher than was necessary, realized it, and backed off. “Look,” he rubbed his temple. “I get it if it’s some Ben-Hassrath thing, but that makes me worry about you, and if it’s  _not_ some Ben-Hassrath thing…”

He was jumping to all the wrong conclusions, but Iron Bull saw real hurt in his eyes and caved. “Alright, look, I’ll tell you what’s going on, but you have to keep this secret,” Iron Bull said in a low voice.

"All right, I’m listening."

"Not here," he said gesturing for him to follow. They went down to the disused library in the basement, and Iron Bull locked the door behind him.

"You’re not giving me a lot of reason  _not_ to worry right now, you realize that, right?” Dorian said, moving to lean against a dusty bookshelf. He saw a gigantic cobweb and thought the better of it.

"You promise me you’ll keep this a secret?"

“ _Yes_ , out with it already!”

Iron Bull smirked. “Okay, so you know how Cassandra and Josephine have been walking around like zombies and acting funny the past week or so?”

"I suppose, why?"

"Well I saw Varric walking around with way more paperwork than usual yesterday. Not that weird, but then Cassandra, who everyone knows can’t stand Varric, goes over and offers to help him with it."

"That is…odd I guess," Dorian raised an eyebrow, uncertain of where this was going.

"Turns out they’re all working on this romance novel thing along with that dwarven arcanist, Dagna, I think her name is." Dorian stared at him. "The story’s cute, needs work though. I didn’t realize Seeker Pentaghast was into fluffy sweet stuff. I wrote some _steamy bits_ for shits and giggles, and dropped them off last night. Then the blizzard got going, we all got caught up in the writing, and we ended up staying up all night. Dagna fell asleep and we didn’t want to wake her up, and none of us actually know where her room is, so I carried her back to my room so she didn’t have to sleep on Cassandra’s office floor. That’s why I showed up in your room at daybreak. Happy now?”

Dorian completely lost it. “ _That’s adorable!_ " He managed to wheeze out between bouts of uncontrollable laughter. After he wiped the tears from his face, he immediately regained all composure, laid a hand on Iron Bull’s shoulder, and looked him straight in the eye. "You must get me a copy of this."

"No." Iron Bull unlocked the door. "I’m going to go get some breakfast. I really want some pancakes."

Dorian pouted. “Fine, be like that.” He followed after Iron Bull on his quest for pancakes. He’d have that text in his hands soon enough, whether he liked it or not.


	6. Burden of Knowledge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's still snowing and the Inquisitor and her party return from the Western Approach, though not in the best shape.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going to wait until I had more content buffered, but I'm posting it now because I have zero self-control.
> 
> If you were wondering why I tagged this with "snowboarding", I have this idea about a Dalish and, as a corollary, ancient Elvhen equivalent of snowboarding. I rambled about it [here](http://icetigris.tumblr.com/post/106494410961/dalish-snowboarding-is-a-thing-and-you-cannot) in case you want a little background. This exists because I am a snowboarder in real life and I am apparently unable to not go full self-insert with my canon Inquisitor. It's not a main focus of this story, just one of Elessiel's bigger quirks. That and I am a _huge fucking nerd_ for the sport.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who's commented/bookmarked/added kudos/read this! This is the first multi-chapter fic I've ever posted. Feel free to point out any typos, weird diction, etc. I'm soloing this horror, so it's just me editing it and I'm bound to miss things.

The snow continued to fall throughout the day, though the wind died down in the early afternoon. Cassandra was restless from being cooped up all day, despite having slept in, and decided that if she couldn’t burn off energy by training in the yard, she could try to get some work done, or at least get in a game of chess with Cullen. She collected some reports from her desk and went out to brave the storm, taking an indirect, mostly enclosed route to Cullen’s tower office.

“Good afternoon, Cullen,” she began as she let herself into his office, shaking off as much snow as she could before entering. “I hope I’m not—what are you doing?”

Cullen had a piece of wax in one hand and a hot iron in the other. He was bent over a board that was sitting on a makeshift workbench made out of loose flagstones and fallen rafter beams. “Oh, Cassandra,” he responded, setting the iron down on the brazier he had set up nearby. “I’m just putting some fresh wax on my snowboard.”

Cassandra blinked. Evidently everyone was taking a snow day. “I didn’t realize they needed to be waxed,” she said as she moved closer to the fire. It smelled of hot wax, but she was glad to be near a heat source.

Cullen melted some wax onto the iron and swiped it across the bottom of his board. “Yes, every so often. It helps the board slide on the snow better. Yours probably still has plenty on it. You only went out with us that one time, as I recall.”

“Yes, just the one time,” Cassandra confirmed. “It was fun, but once was enough for me.” Inquisitor Lavellan had tried to convince nearly the entire Inquisition to try her favorite Dalish pastime, but only a few were keen on braving the cold and risking catastrophic injuries in the name of fun. “Are you going to go out when it stops snowing?”

“Well, I’d be more than willing to go out in this, since the conditions seem good, but I hoped to go riding with Ele—Inquisitor Lavellan.”

Cassandra’s eyebrow quirked up for a split second. Almost no one called the Inquisitor by her first name as a sign of respect. Did his slip mean something, or was she just in too deep with her story? She was at once filled with a sinking worry and the kind of excitement that got her writing gears turning. She decided to test the waters. “Aren’t Sera and Iron Bull still riding? You could go with them.”

Cullen avoided eye contact, and reached for a metal scraping tool. “Well...yes. Scout Harding too, but I think she’s out in the field.” He started scraping the excess wax off the bottom of his board.

“She was here yesterday, I don’t think she’s gone back out yet,” Cassandra said of Scout Harding.

Cullen paused. “Oh, I see...well, I think we could all use more lessons, in any case.” He didn’t say anything else as he finished scraping the sides of his board and cleaned up the shavings. When he finished, he stood the board on its tail and admired his work before setting it aside in a corner with a pile of other gear. “Now then, I’m sure you didn’t come to watch me wax a board. Anything to report?”

Cassandra chuckled. “Nothing beyond a bit of cabin fever. Would you like to play a game of chess?”

The anxiety drained out of Cullen’s demeanor as he flashed a crooked smile. “Always.”

But Cassandra _knew_.

They played a few games, Cullen beating her more decisively each time. Cassandra was caught up in her own thoughts, so she didn’t mind, while Cullen was happy to be winning, since he was usually the one being beaten decisively in Wicked Grace.

Evening grew near, and the hush that fell over the fortress from all of its usual activity being forced to move inside or cease was broken by the sound of pounding hooves. Barely a minute had passed before a scout burst into Cullen’s office.

“Sers! The Inquisitor has returned!” the young man reported breathlessly. Cassandra and Cullen bolted up. Scouts rarely sought them out to report that the Inquisitor and her party had returned, unless there was bad news. They sprinted down to the fortress gates, dread building in their chests.

Two harts were standing just inside the gate. Cole had already dismounted and was helping Solas down from the hart they’d been sharing as Blackwall maneuvered Elessiel into a position from which someone else could carry her. She was wrapped in Solas’s coat, nearly soaked through with blood, and barely conscious.

“Cole, Solas, you take her,” Blackwall said, seeing that they’d dismounted.

“I can’t, my arm is broken,” said Solas, exhausted and distraught. His dominant arm hung at his side, limp and crudely splinted. He was covered in blood, much of it not his own. Cole came to his side and draped his good arm over his shoulders. Solas accepted the help wordlessly, leaning against Cole heavily. His eyes were locked on Elessiel’s crumpled form.

“Oh, right.” Blackwall sighed, squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, and then sniffed hard. His nose was bleeding again and the world was spinning. It was taking all of his strength and focus to stay on the hart, hold Elessiel, and stay conscious.

“Maker’s breath, what happened out there?” asked Cullen, making a beeline for Elessiel.

“It’s a long story,” said Blackwall as he handed Elessiel off to Cullen. Once his hands were free, he dismounted from the hart and nearly collapsed. Cassandra caught him as he stumbled.

“She thought they would kill us, Venatori, Veil torn, Terrors tearing armor and flesh and bone—”

“Cole, not now, _please_ ,” Solas begged, the pain evident in his voice.

Cassandra nodded. “I will get the healers. You can tell us what happened later. Meet us in the infirmary.” She took off as fast as she could through the knee-deep snow, with Cullen not far behind. The others stumbled their way through the snow to the best of their abilities as some guards led the harts back to the stables.

The rest of the afternoon was spent wrangling healers. Cassandra’s attempts to extract a sane version of the events that led up to their arrival were thwarted by various factors that were not limited to Solas needing to be sedated so his bones could be reset, Blackwall’s head injury-induced confusion, and Cole’s typical opaqueness. Cullen tapped out almost immediately, when he realized he’d been holding a not only blood-soaked, but also half-naked Inquisitor. When he set Elessiel down on one of the infirmary cots and the fabric of Solas’s coat fell open, he saw that she’d—quite literally—been ripped to shreds. Her armor was in pieces; any plate panels she had left with had been destroyed and discarded, and the mail was barely being held together by a stray link here and there. He wasn’t sure if the sight of her torn flesh and exposed bone or the split-second glimpse of her bare breast was what did him in. Either way, he practically fled the scene. Everyone but Cassandra was baffled. She _knew_.

Nightfall could not come fast enough. Any restlessness Cassandra had been fighting had been replaced by exhaustion and worry.  She slumped down in her chair in her dark office, rubbing her eyes. She considered the Inquisitor a friend, and now she was worried for her on multiple fronts. She nearly cancelled the night’s writing session so she could sleep, but decided she would feel worse if she didn’t go.

Josephine and Dagna arrived first, with a jug of hot mulled cider. Word hadn’t spread throughout Skyhold yet, but those close to the Inquisitor had been informed.

“I heard about what happened. Cullen told me...well he said everyone would be fine, but he seemed quite shaken,” said Josephine, pouring Cassandra the first cup. “Are you alright, Cassandra?”

Cassandra sighed and warmed her hands on the mug. Cullen must have been a wreck if Josephine was this worried. This only compounded her fears. She took a sip before answering. “I am fine. I’m just worried about the Inquisitor.”

“Me too,” Varric said as he came up the stairs, a stack of papers at the ready. “Are you still up for writing tonight, Seeker? Sounds like it was a rough day.” She nodded mid-sip, and bid him come towards her with his edits.

It was a good hour or so before Iron Bull showed up. Cassandra was hard at work merging changes from several different versions of the story, pouring what little energy she had into the scutwork of editing.

“Hey guys, sorry I’m late, I had a bit of an issue with a _tag-along_ —” Iron Bull began.

Dorian rolled his eyes and brushed some snow off his shoulder. “Oh please, you knew what you were getting into this morning.”

Cassandra looked up with only her eyes and blinked slowly. She didn’t even have the energy to get mad about this. “Dorian, why are you here?” It wasn’t a question.

“In a word? Curiosity!” Dorian began. “I also brought some treats.” He held aloft a bag that smelled of fresh dough and sugar. “Figured you could use a bit more than liquid nourishment, though,” he paused as Iron Bull held aloft a bottle of something else. “We also brought liquid treats.”

“Oooh, is that Hirol’s Lava Burst?!” Dagna jumped out of her seat in excitement.

“You bet,” said Iron Bull, flashing a crooked smile.

“Oh I love this stuff! I haven’t had it in ages,” said Dagna. She drained the last of the cider from her cup and set her pen down to go get some from Iron Bull.

Cassandra glared at Dorian, huffed a deep sigh, and rubbed her eyes. “I suppose you want to be a contributor as well?”

“Potentially,” he said, reaching into the bag for a pastry. “I haven’t read any of it yet. I know this project is supposed to be secret and I apologize for barging in as I did. A peace offering?” He handed her a fresh, warm pastry.

“Ugh, I...is this blueberry?” Dorian nodded with a crooked smile. Cassandra accepted the treat. “Well, what’s one more?” she said sarcastically, before biting into the pastry. “Mm, especially if you bring these to the meetings.” They read and wrote quietly for much of the evening, mostly editing previous work and merging changes. Dorian brought himself up to speed and broke the silence.

“Well, I think the visual descriptions are a bit sparse and, if I may suggest a bit of _embellishment_ , most of the characters could use a better sense of _fashion_ ,” said Dorian.

“Why am I not surprised that that’s your suggestion, Sparkler?” said Varric.

Dorian ignored him. “Let’s be honest here, Solas needs an intervention.” Nobody disagreed.

After another hour or so, Cassandra finished merging changes from various drafts and decided she was done for the night. She finished her drink and rose. “I’m going to bed. You are all welcome to keep working in here, just make sure nobody else comes in,” she said before yawning and striding over to the stairwell.

Josephine took a sip of her drink. “I’ll be right back,” she told the group. She walked down the stairs and followed Cassandra just outside the door. “Cassandra, are you sure you’re alright? You seem...very much not yourself tonight.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Because I let Dorian stay without so much as a shout?”

“Well...admittedly that did come as a surprise, but you’re also usually more...free-flowing with ideas?” Josephine wasn’t sure how to say it, but she noticed Cassandra had done nothing but edit, when she was always coming up with more cute or silly new content. “You know Varric and I are here to help with editing.”

“I know, and I appreciate it. I think I was just running low on inspiration tonight. It is...difficult to write anything light-hearted about a friend I saw grievously injured only hours ago.” She paused, the chaotic scene from the infirmary fresh in her mind. “I am worried about Solas and Blackwall as well, but Elessiel...” Josephine put her hand on her shoulder. Cassandra sighed. “Perhaps I should visit her tomorrow, if she’s well enough.”

Josephine nodded. “I think that’s a fine idea. I will keep tabs on them for you, if you like.” Cassandra smiled weakly and nodded. “And Cassandra, if ever you need to talk about something, please let me know.”

“Thank you, Josephine. The same goes for you.”

Josephine smiled. “Well, I’ll let you get to bed. I’m going to keep working on the story for a while longer. I’ll bring you the edits in the morning.”

Cassandra smiled. “I look forward to it. Goodnight, Josephine.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Elessiel is kind of a semi-oblivious flirt-with-everyone kind of socializer, purple as fuck, if we're going with DA2 terms. She does have a small crush on Cullen, but it's more like a "this dork is adorable" type thing. She's totally in love with Solas, and probably wouldn't go for Cullen unless Solas legit died and she had several years of recovery afterwards. She does consider Cullen a close friend and wouldn't want him to be a rebound, cause that's shitty for everyone. Cullen kind of knows this, and he would never do anything untoward, but he just /really likes Elessiel/ and can't keep himself away. In my world state, the Warden was a female Surana, so there's that deja vu shit going on, too. He also comes to really fucking love snowboarding, since the adrenaline rush does a good job of taking the edge off the lyrium withdrawal.
> 
> IN OTHER NEWS, I really like the idea of Dagna being Iron Bull and Dorian's weird adopted nerd daughter.


	7. Inspiration Station

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra actually has an opportunity to interact with the main characters of her story for the first time in several weeks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANKS AGAIN FOR ALL THE SUPPORT! Every comment/kudo/bookmark/etc. fills my nerd heart with glee~
> 
> In case you were wondering, Elessiel is pretty much a 100% self-insert Inquisitor, so her speech style is almost exactly how I speak in real life. If I had the time and patience, I would do a re-voice over of all the lines because I have zero shame in admitting that I like the sound of my own voice. ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯

It was a couple of days before Elessiel was well enough for visitors. Solas stayed with her in the infirmary, and then in her quarters when the healers felt it was safe to move her. He couldn’t do much with his dominant arm immobilized; casting was difficult, if not impossible, and painting was out of the question. He spent a lot of time in the Fade with Elessiel, and when she was awake, they told each other stories.

Cassandra knocked on the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. She wasn’t surprised to find Solas at the door, but she quickly realized she wasn’t really prepared to face him.

“Hello, Cassandra.” Solas greeted her with his usual polite, calm manner. “Josephine informed me that you might be visiting.” He gestured for her to enter.

“Yes, if that’s all right with Inquisitor Lavellan.” She felt like she was interrupting something; she felt her pulse quicken, pushing back thoughts of Iron Bull’s writing. “How are you feeling, Solas?”

He cocked his head to the side nonchalantly in a little half-shrug. “I’ve had worse, but I appreciate the concern.” He started up the stairs, Cassandra following. “I’m sure Elessiel will be glad for a change in company,” he said, the lilt of jest in his voice.

Cassandra saw Elessiel roll her eyes from across the room. “Whatever, Solas, you’re the one who won’t tell me any more funny stories.” She was propped up on a mass of pillows, her wavy, honey blonde hair falling in cascades all around her. Cassandra had rarely seen her hair out of the compressed bun she wore; she was always taken aback by how long it was. She took a seat at the foot of the bed, and noticed that Elessiel wasn’t wearing a shirt, but a layer of bandages that enveloped her entire upper body.

Solas chuckled, but he cast his gaze downward for a moment. “As I recall, you were unable to breathe for a full minute following the ending of the last one.”

“ _I got better._ ” Elessiel rolled her eyes again while smiling. Cassandra felt at once out of place and voyeuristically interested in the exchange between the two elves. She mentally catalogued every gesture, expression, look, and change in intonation. “Anyway, Cassandra, I’m glad you’re here. I wanted to ask if you’d be up for joining us next time we head out for the field.”

 _Us_. She knew that was code for her, Solas, and two others. “Of course. You know I am always at the ready for you.” _And for more material._

Elessiel flashed one of her crooked smiles. “Great! I’m thinking we head for Emprise du Lion. I know Varric wanted to take care of some of the red lyrium deposits around there, and Cullen wanted us to investigate some Red Templar activity.” Cassandra’s heart leapt and she clenched her jaw. Both dread and excitement pooled in her chest at the sound of those two names. “Is that okay with you?” Elessiel asked, noticing Cassandra tensing.

Cassandra’s ears went red. “Ah, yes, of course. I’m just...worried about you and Solas. And Blackwall.” _Nice save_. “How are you feeling? Have the healers given you a timeline for when you can resume your duties?”

“Honestly, I feel like shit.” Elessiel frowned. “They said it’s probably going to be another week before I’m allowed to move around again, and combat’s not happening for at least another week after that.” She let her head drop back onto her pillows and sighed as deeply as her shredded chest would allow. “It _sucks_. All I want to do right now is go snowboarding—the conditions look _incredible_.” She cast her gaze longingly out the window.

Solas nodded in agreement. “I, too, would like to get out in the snow, but I won’t be able to use my arm for another few days, at best. I’ve also been instructed not to do anything that would risk re-injury for two weeks.” Solas stood up slowly. “Speaking of which, it seems I’m running late for my appointment with the bone healer.” He walked around to the other side of the bed towards the door before looking back at them. Elessiel followed him with her eyes. “Dareth shiral, vhenan.” He gave a little bow towards Cassandra. “Seeker.”

Cassandra waited for the sound of the door closing behind him before letting the corners of her mouth quirk upwards. Elessiel let out a little sigh and Cassandra’s face broke into a full grin.

“What?” Elessiel asked, also trying to bite back a grin.

Cassandra giggled. “Just, you two.”

Elessiel shrugged. “Well, it’s not like it’s a secret.” Her tone was nonchalant, but her face was red enough to partially obscure the purple vallaslin on her cheeks.

“No, it’s just...sweet,” said Cassandra, putting her chin in her hands.

Elessiel rolled her eyes again, making her own sort of disgusted noise that devolved into a giggle, which devolved into a pained groan.

“It seems that Solas was serious about the moratorium on laughing.” Cassandra’s expression went serious. “Are you alright?”

“I’ll be okay,” she wheezed. “Just give me a second.” Elessiel took a moment to recover, then let her head drop backward onto the pillow pile again.

Cassandra decided it was best to get back to business. “Actually, I meant to ask you about what happened in the field. Blackwall and Cole’s versions of the story are...incoherent at best.”

Elessiel picked her head back up. “I can tell you everything up to the point where I passed out, but you’d probably have to ask Solas for the rest. I’m pretty sure Blackwall had his head kicked in, so that would explain why his version of the story doesn’t make sense. Is he okay?”

“Last I saw, he was asleep in the infirmary. The healers told me he’ll be fine, but he needs a few days to recover,” said Cassandra.

“That’s good to hear. He was out for a lot of the fight.” Elessiel shifted so that she was sitting more upright. “Basically what happened is that we were ambushed by a group of Venatori, then ran straight into a massive Fade rift. There were...I think 6 or 7 guys? One of them was a spellbinder and one of them was one of those big hulking guys with a warhammer. We tried to get away from them, but, as you can imagine, our escape route was full of demons. I took out about half the Venatori and a couple of demons before one of the Terror demons knocked me on my back and started ripping my chest open.”

Cassandra winced. She was used to the horror of battle, but Elessiel’s nonchalance about being torn to pieces unsettled her.

Elessiel continued. “Anyway, this is about the point at which my memory starts to get fuzzy. I remember being in a lot of pain and I know I was still fighting until I closed the rift, but I couldn’t tell you the details. I think Solas might have slammed the Terror demon off me? Maybe that’s how he broke his arm, but I don’t know, he wouldn’t tell me. I remember closing the rift, but I think I passed out right after that.” Elessiel shrugged. “So yeah, that’s about all I have. If I get Solas’s version of the events, maybe I can give you a cooler version to work with.”

“That won’t be necessary.” Cassandra knew she’d be cooking up a “cool version” to tell at the next Wicked Grace game either way. She was almost as bad as Varric. “Thank you for telling me about what happened.”

“No problem. Sorry I wasn’t able to give you the full story,” said Elessiel as she settled back into the pile of pillows.

“Don’t worry about it,” said Cassandra. “I should let you rest. If I find out anything interesting from Solas, I will let you know.”

“Thanks,” said Elessiel. “And thank you for coming up to visit me.”

Cassandra smiled warmly before turning to leave. “It’s what friends do.”

After closing the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters behind her, Cassandra slumped against the wall for a second and let out a sigh of relief. The Inquisitor would be fine and neither she nor Solas suspected anything. She waited for the guilt over her excitement to keep writing to hit her, but it never came.


	8. Hot Couture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dorian is just as bad at keeping secrets as the rest of the club, but at least he's stylish.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm posting this on my birthday aw yeah B)

Cassandra walked back toward her office completely lost in thought. That one chapter where Elessiel and Solas are alone in the ice cave would have to be completely rewritten. So would the parts where she’s talking about him to her self-insert character. Maker, a lot of her dialogue needed rewriting, after what she learned from that exchange. What about fight scenes? She’d need Varric’s help with that. What about the story she’d just heard from Elessiel? She probably hadn’t been writing her tough enough to begin with. What if—

“Oof, Cassandra, darling, do be a bit more mindful of where you’re going, if you would, please,” said Vivienne, straightening her hat after Cassandra walked directly into her.

“Ah—Vivienne, I apologize. I was...distracted.” Her ears blazed red once again.

“Evidently, my dear. Are you all right?”

Cassandra sighed. At least she had a decent answer to this question, if it was going to keep coming up. “I suppose. Inquisitor Lavellan just told me what happened to her, Solas, and Blackwall in the Western Approach.”

“Ah yes, dreadful, that, but I hear they are to make a full recovery?”

Cassandra nodded. “It will take some time, but she plans on taking a party to Emprise du Lion once she and Solas are fully recovered. It will most likely be with me and Varric.”

“I see. Well do be careful, my dear.” Vivienne watched as Cassandra continued on to her office.

“She seems to be in a bit of a state,” said Dorian, leaning against the wall next to Vivienne.

“Yes. Though can you blame her?”

“I suppose not.” Dorian paused. “Vivienne, darling, may I ask you a question?”

Vivienne faced him, crossed her arms, and cocked her head. That was about as much of a yes as he was going to get.

“I’ve been thinking, you know how we’ve discussed getting Lady Lavellan and Solas proper wardrobes?”

Vivienne raised an eyebrow. “Yes...why do you ask?”

“I realized—maybe they haven’t been open to the idea because they aren’t sure of what we had in mind for them?”

She narrowed her eyes. “There may yet be hope for our dear Inquisitor, but I seriously doubt that Solas would be open to the idea of wearing anything other than those _apostate rags_ he seems so fond of. In any case, why ask about this now?”

“Boredom? All this snow has made for incredibly dull afternoons. And besides, our Inquisitor must be bored out of her skull too, stuck in bed, the poor thing.” Dorian knew he was playing a dangerous game. Though he was genuinely interested in fixing Elessiel and Solas’s _unfortunate_ wardrobes, he really wanted to understand their tastes (or what their tastes should be) for the sake of accurate description.

“Yes...I suppose we ought to pay her a visit,” Vivienne admitted.

“Wonderful! I received some catalogues from Minrathous just the other day; perhaps it will give her some ideas. I shall return with them shortly,” said Dorian as he headed up to his quarters. Vivienne shook her head, but couldn’t keep a thin smile from spreading across her face as she strode towards her quarters to retrieve a few of her own catalogues.

Dorian was up to something.

If her experience playing the Game taught her anything, it was that everyone had an ulterior motive. The only question was what was his? She and Dorian were on friendly terms, but to say they were friends would be a stretch. Still, he had a point. She didn’t dislike his company, and Inquisitor Lavellan was in need of both a distraction and a fashion overhaul. Vivienne carefully selected a few catalogues and lookbooks from some of her favorite designers and boutiques. She was vaguely aware of some of Elessiel’s preferences: hoods, long coattails, tight pants. Blue, white, and purple seemed to be a common theme. She tucked the stack under her arm and met Dorian by the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters.

“Ah! There you are! I took the liberty of acquiring some treats for the Inquisitor,” said Dorian, holding a bottle of wine and a small sack of cookies. Vivienne shot him a disapproving glance. “It’s a very nice red from Tevinter. You like more fruit-forward wines, as I recall?”

“I hardly think it’s appropriate for the Inquisitor to be imbibing when she’s in such a state,” Vivienne scoffed.

“Don’t be ridiculous. One glass won’t hurt her, and I suspect she could use a little something to take the edge off,” retorted Dorian as he turned. An elven apprentice burst through the door before Dorian could do anything else.

“Oh, pardon me, sers!” she yelped, nearly barreling straight into them.

“Is everything all right, my dear?” Vivienne asked, her voice taut with concern.

“Apologies, but I haven’t time to talk. I must fetch more herbs and bandages, or my master will be very cross,” she turned and ran full-tilt towards the infirmary. “I’ll be back shortly!” she yelled over her shoulder.

“How good is your healing magic?” Vivienne asked Dorian with none of her usual airs.

“Little better than first aid, really. Yours?”

Vivienne pursed her lips. “We should see if the healer needs help.”

They left the great hall and knocked on the door to the Inquisitor’s quarters. Vivienne entered first. “Is everything all right?” Vivienne called up the stairs.

“Do you need any help?” Dorian called.

A portly older lady stormed to the top of the stairs, her hands covered in some kind of ointment. “Arleia?! Blasted apprentices, is that—oh First Enchanter Vivienne! And Ser Pavus. Everything is alright, relatively speaking, but if you’d like to help, I certainly won’t refuse—”

Faintly they heard Elessiel groaning from across the room. “The whole gods-damned Inquisition is going to get a look at my tits at this rate.”

The healer was having none of Elessiel’s whining, warranted as it may have been. “Maker’s breath, you’re decent enough for a healer, Inquisitor!”

“I’ll wait outside.” The healer huffed as Dorian saw himself out. He leaned against the wall just outside the Inquisitor’s door and snuck a cookie. Vivienne rolled her eyes and followed the healer up the stairs.

Elessiel’s upper body was a patchwork of fresh bandages, and angry, partially healed lacerations, glistening with ointment and ooze. The healer immediately went back to work applying ointment to wounds before casting a slow healing spell. “I’ve been trying to minimize scar tissue formation,” she began. Vivienne could suppress neither an empathetic hiss, nor the urge to scrunch her shoulders inwards at the sight of the healer knitting together a wound that ran straight across the Inquisitor’s breast. “The healing process takes a bit longer with this spell, but the original structural integrity of the skin is restored. This ointment is something of my own invention; it works very well to suppress both infection and inflammation.”

“It hurts like a bitch though,” Elessiel hissed through gritted teeth.

“Darling, if I may?” Vivienne had seen similar spells and, seeing the healer work, thought she could do better. She brought her hands over a gash that had probably revealed bone earlier that week, and felt for the threads of living tissue. Once she had found the frayed ends, she felt for the warp and weft of the intact tissue around it, and gently tugged and coaxed the skin to begin regenerating. Vivienne wove the tiny threads of Elessiel back together. “How does that feel, my dear?”

“Really, _really_ weird,” Elessiel grunted and winced. “Still hurts, but not as much.”

“Good, that’s a start.” Vivienne kept working until the apprentice healer returned with a massive roll of bandages a few minutes later. Her spell was much slower than the healer’s, but the newly healed skin looked like it had never been compromised at all. She took a step back and let the healers finish rewrapping Elessiel’s wounds. When they were finished, they bid them good day and scurried back to the infirmary.

Elessiel huffed a sigh. “ _Sylaise enansal_ , I’m glad that’s over for the day.”

“Is it safe to come up yet?” Dorian called up the stairs.

“Yes, darling, bring the catalogues,” Vivienne responded.

“Catalogues?” Elessiel asked.

Dorian emerged from the stairwell with their pile of catalogues and two more bags of treats from the kitchen. He dumped the catalogues on the foot of Elessiel’s bed and extracted 3 glasses from one of the bags. There was a second bottle of wine now, too. “We thought you might be bored up here by yourself, and, since we have discussed helping you revamp your wardrobe in the past, we thought giving you an idea of what we had in mind might be a fun way to while away an afternoon.”

Elessiel raised an eyebrow. “As opposed to ‘ _what is that GHASTLY thing you’re wearing?! I must send for my personal tailor to rectify this TRAVESTY,_ ’” she mocked. Vivienne said nothing, observing Dorian.

Dorian laughed. “Yes, well, I thought it might be a good idea to understand your taste in clothing before we clean out your closet and set fire to the casualties,” Dorian popped the cork out of one of the bottles and began pouring. “I also thought you also might enjoy a light anaesthetic in the form of a nice Primitivo from southern Tevinter.”

“June bless you and your great hair, Dorian, June _fucking_ enansal,” Elessiel raised her hands as far as her injuries would allow in fake reverence.

“I brought cookies too.” Dorian grinned.

“FENEDHIS—June, Sylaise, and _gods-damn_ Mythal _FUCKIN’_ ENANSAL,” Elessiel couldn’t raise her hands any further so she just kind of bounced a little.

“Darling, don’t get too excited, we wouldn’t want you to reopen anything,” Vivienne cautioned.

“Ah—yeah, you’re right. Still, thank you for bringing me treats and visiting, it means a lot,” she said as Dorian handed her a glass of wine and a small plate of cookies. “So what _do_ you have in mind for me?”

With that, the opinion floodgates opened.

Vivienne recommended delicate floral silk brocades in light greens, golds, and neutrals, silhouette-altering exaggerated shoulder and collar pieces, flowing coattails, and ridiculously tall thigh-high boots that could pierce holes in Val Royeaux’s flagstones. “And we _must_ do something about your hair. You have such lovely hair, you really ought to wear it long more often. Some gold and amethysts in your hair would go stunningly with your purple…”

“Vallaslin.” Elessiel finished, unfazed. Most of her human friends often forgot what the face tattoos were called. “Fair enough, maybe around Skyhold, and if we have to go to diplomatic events or whatnot. I’m still putting my hair up to fight dragons and Venatori though.”

“Fair enough, indeed, my dear.” Vivienne noticed that Dorian was furiously scribbling notes. She narrowed her eyes imperceptibly and adjusted the catalogues and fabric swatches laid out in front of them. “Thoughts?”

Elessiel had been drawing little doodles and taking notes in her own sketchbook. “Those silks feel really nice, but do they come in blues and purples? And less flowery? I love that one with the long coat ends in the back,” she said, pointing to a design with a long, forked tail that was lined with a deep red velvet. “Not into the huge puffy sleeves, though.” Elessiel showed Vivienne some of her design doodles. “What do you think of this? I like those boots too, but I never want to wear another spike heel again in my life. Halamshiral was enough.”

Vivienne looked over Elessiel’s design. “Well, I think this is a bit plain, my dear, but it is a vast improvement. Perhaps Dorian can give you some inspiration.”

Dorian set his pen down abruptly. “What? Oh, yes! You’ve only been looking at _Orlesian_ fashion. Perhaps you’d prefer some Tevinter designers’ work?” Dorian smirked as Vivienne shot him a look that would freeze lesser men.

Dorian showed her designs utilizing dark silks, velvets, and leather, asymmetrical layers and draping, non-functional belts, sashes, and short capes for embellishment, and flashes of gold and silver. “I think this one with the silver-edged hood would look stunning on you.”

“Creators, I _love_ this. That asymmetric little cape thing is fantastic. The colors are a little dark for me, but,” Elessiel picked up another catalogue with a design for a fur-trimmed royal blue and white coat with silver embroidery and scale mail. “Oh my gods, that one would look incredible on Solas.”

Dorian grinned and Vivienne raised an eyebrow, not quite able to suppress a smirk. “I _told_ you this was a good idea, Vivienne.”

Just then, they heard a knock on the door, then quiet footsteps. “Ah, more visitors?” asked Solas as he came up the stairs.

“Ah, Solas! Good timing.” Her ears were a little pink—he probably heard that comment. “Come have a look at this,” said Elessiel, holding up a catalogue.

He took the catalogue with his good arm and studied the page. “This is some kind of Tevinter clothing design, if I’m not mistaken.”

“Do you like it?” Elessiel asked.

“It seems rather impractical,” Solas responded. He paused, rubbing one of the fabric swatches, then narrowed his eyes. “What exactly is going on here? Is this another one of your attempts to replace my clothes with absurd finery, First Enchanter?”

“My dear, why would _I_ be suggesting _Tevinter_ fashion to anyone?” Vivienne shot Dorian another look.

“ _Solas_ , do you _like_ it? This is a simple yes or no question.”

He mulled it over for a moment, rubbing the fabric swatches again. “I suppose I do like it in a way, yes. Why do you ask?”

“I’m getting it for you.”

“What? No, I don’t have any use for this.” Solas set the catalogue back down on the bed.

Elessiel clicked her tongue and rolled her eyes. “Oh, come on, I think it would look great on you.”

“You should listen to her, Solas,” said Dorian in full agreement.

Solas pinched the bridge of his nose. “I did not come up here to have my choice of clothing be judged by a couple of peacocks.”

“Oh, for the love of the _Creators_ , Solas, we’re looking at designs for fun,” Elessiel snapped. “Do you think I would be onboard with this if I thought Vivienne and Dorian were going to just rip into my style? Here, look at what I picked out for myself,” said Elessiel, handing her sketchbook to Solas.

Vivienne noticed Dorian scribbling more notes as Solas flipped through Elessiel’s sketchbook and talked with her about the design elements they liked. She knew Dorian was a scholar, but generally of necromancy and arcane time flow research, not fashion design. About what was he taking so many notes? He had only seemed to care about the Inquisitor’s and Solas’s appearances in a snark capacity, what had changed all of a sudden?

“I do admit I like elements from that Orlesian design, as well,” said Solas, looking at an array of design doodles and catalogues. “But, I really have no use for these.”

“Oh please, I know you had fun dressing up for Halamshiral,” said Elessiel.

“I enjoyed Halamshiral, but perhaps not for the same reasons you are thinking of,” said Solas, a smirk tugging at the side of his lips.

“Oh my _gods_ , Solas.”

Vivienne suddenly felt very out of place and immediately stood to begin extricating herself from the situation. “Well, I think you’re off to a magnificent start, my dear. Do let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to order for you.” She took a few steps towards the door. “Dorian?”

Dorian was jarred from his note-taking. “Ah, yes, feel free to peruse the catalogues and let me know if you want me to send away for anything else for you.” He collected his notes and followed Vivienne towards the door.

“Oh—see you later! Thanks for coming up and for bringing all the wine and cookies and stuff!” Elessiel called after them.

After they shut the door behind them, Vivienne unceremoniously snatched the pages of Dorian’s notes right out of his hand.

“Hey, give me that!” Dorian lunged to grab the notes back, but was deterred by a barrier.

“These are awfully _verbose_ order forms, darling. What _ever_ could you be commissioning, I wonder?” Dorian lunged again, but was deterred by a mind blast as she read the notes. “And what’s this about a meeting with Cassandra tonight?”

“That is _none of your concern_ ,” he snapped as he snatched the pages back from Vivienne.

“Oh, I would tend to disagree, my dear. If it’s some secret Inquisition business, I feel I _must_ involve myself.”

“Vivienne, darling, I _promise_ you, you would not be interested in this.” Dorian’s desperation was showing.

“We shall see, my dear. Good day.” Vivienne strutted out the door, leaving Dorian with a growing sense of panic.


	9. Two for One Deal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's never a good idea to get Vivienne curious about dirt.

Dorian hurried to the tavern to find Iron Bull. He was in his usual spot, looking over some Ben-Hassrath reports.

“Bull, I need to speak with you.” The panic was evident in his voice.

“A little early to be getting your drink on, don’t you think?” Iron Bull smirked.

“Bull!”

“Alright, alright, what’s up?”

“We’ve got a _leak,_ ” Dorian said in almost a whisper.

Bull frowned. “Great. Who is it this time?”

“ _Vivienne._ ”

“Oh shit, Dorian, how did you manage that?”

Dorian’s eyes darted around, not entirely willing to share how the leak happened. “Flew too close to the flame, I suspect. She’s smart. The good news is I have lots of material to work with and the Inquisitor should soon be wearing much nicer—”

Iron Bull’s tone turned dangerous. “ _What did you just do?_ ”

Dorian recounted the events of the afternoon, including the part where Vivienne stole his notes and learned of the meeting with Cassandra.

“You risked the _entire operation_ over details on what kinds of clothes they like?” Iron Bull scrubbed his hand over his face and sighed. “It could have been worse, but you really fucked up this time, you know that?”

“Yes, I’m aware. The question now is what do we do?”

Iron Bull leaned forward. “Vivienne is cunning. And scary. She’ll be in on this soon enough whether we like it or not. We need to decide if we want Cassandra to kick our asses sooner or later.”

“I vote sooner. Let’s get this over with.”

Meanwhile, on the other side of Skyhold, Vivienne ascended the stairs to Leliana’s rookery. She found the spymaster hunched over a report she was writing, holding her head up with the palm of one hand, her brow furrowed in concentration.

“Good afternoon, Leliana. I hope I’m not interrupting, but may I borrow you for a moment?”

Leliana looked up and stretched. “Of course. I could use the break. What’s on your mind?”

“Well, darling, I am putting in a few orders to Val Royeaux for the Inquisitor and Solas, and I was wondering if you wanted to add anything to the order.”

Leliana’s eyes lit up and she giggled. “You are a terrible enabler, Vivienne. You know I always need another pair of shoes. Is this for another event?”

Vivienne smiled. “I try, my dear. It’s not for an event, unless you count the momentous occasion of Solas wanting to acquire proper clothing as an event.”

Leliana chuckled. “Oh, let me see what they’re getting!” Vivienne handed Leliana the order forms. “These are lovely! Some of these designs look Tevinter, are you sending some orders to Minrathous as well?”

“It was Dorian’s idea to finally initiate this order, so yes. And, darling, may I ask you another question?”

“Of course. Let me get the order form for these shoes, though.” Leliana rummaged through the pile on her desk for the form. Vivienne picked up a shoe catalogue that Leliana had left lying around. It had been dogeared on practically every other page and was bent open to somewhere in the middle.

“Are you aware of any meetings with Cassandra tonight?” Vivienne asked, setting the catalogue back down.

Leliana cocked her head. “No...should I be?”

“How curious...Dorian seemed very concerned about it.”

“Dorian? Why would Dorian be meeting with Cassandra?” Leliana asked.

“I’m not certain. He was not at all pleased when I found out, though, and was rather insistent on dissuading me from attending.”

Leliana narrowed her eyes. “That’s...odd. Do you know what it is about?”

“I suspect it’s something about the Inquisitor, and perhaps Solas. I’m not entirely sure, to be honest. I just know that he seemed very interested in the details of this order.”

Leliana was taken aback. “For clothes? That sounds innocuous, but definitely odd. Where and when are they meeting?”

“Tonight, I would imagine in Cassandra’s office.”

“Are you going to ask Cassandra about it? Or would you rather we be a bit more...discreet?” Leliana’s face darkened.

“I think we ought to err on the side of discretion if Cassandra’s involved,” said Vivienne.

Leliana nodded. “A wise decision. Let’s come up with a plan of action.”

The sun was beginning to set and the meeting time drew near. Cassandra slammed Dorian up against a wall in the belly of Skyhold. Iron Bull stood off to the side, watching.

“WHAT PART OF ‘KEEP THIS PROJECT A SECRET’ DID YOU NOT UNDERSTAND?!” Cassandra bellowed, holding him up by the collar of his robes.

“That’s why I’m saying you should cancel or move the location of the meeting! Vivienne doesn’t find out, everything stays safe, problem solved!”

Cassandra let go of Dorian, turned around, and threw up her hands. “What makes you think that that will deter her?”

“I don’t know...it was just a suggestion! Besides, do you really think Vivienne would be all that interested in this?”

Cassandra spun on her heel and smacked the wall just beside Dorian’s head. “Vivienne is a _politician_ , and this is _dirt_. Why _wouldn’t_ she be interested?!”

Dorian quailed under her gaze. “Well...if...if we can’t keep her away, then what do we do?”

Cassandra backed off and sighed, rubbing her face. “Let’s move the meeting. It’s beginning to get cramped in my office anyway. If she shows up...Maker willing she’ll be better at keeping secrets than _you two,_ ” she spat, glaring daggers at Iron Bull before stalking off.

Dorian and Iron Bull exchanged looks, waiting for Cassandra to slam the door behind her.

“I think that went well,” said Dorian. Iron Bull raised an eyebrow and they left to gather their things for the meeting.

Cassandra made the rounds, telling everyone that they would be meeting in the vault instead of her office. Josephine was her last stop before heading over.

“The vault? Why?”

“Dorian tipped off Vivienne. Hopefully it’s only temporary,” said Cassandra. She huffed a humorless chuckle. “If this gets any bigger, we may have to start reserving a floor in the tavern.”

Josephine momentarily widened her eyes. “Pray that it does not. We would likely need a security detail to keep people out.”

“Maker, I don’t even want to think about it.” Cassandra huffed a sigh and followed Josephine out the door.

Moments passed.

Leliana crept from the alcove between the war room and Josephine’s office, a smirk spreading across her face. She made her way to Vivienne’s quarters to tell her the news.

“...Some kind of secret group meeting in the vault?” asked Vivienne.

“That’s what it sounds like. I will investigate and let you know.”

“Thank you, darling, I do appreciate it.” Vivienne replied before watching Leliana leave.

Leliana watched from a distance as Cassandra, Josephine, Dagna, Varric, Iron Bull, and Dorian made their way to the vault, heavily laden with paper, ink, alcohol, and absconded pastry. When they were all inside, she picked the lock on the door and opened it just wide enough to hear the conversation echoing off the stone walls.

“...is this cinnamon whiskey?”

“Yeah, it’s a Fereldan thing. One of the boys picked up a bottle for me a while ago.”

“Hoooo! This stuff burns!”

“Hahaha, I think I will pass. This wine is very good, though. Thank you for bringing it, Dorian.”

“My pleasure, though I am curious about this Fereldan swill, do pour me a shot, will you?”

“Right, so where were we with this subplot with Rivaini pirates again? Something with Chuckles casting weird Fade magic?”

“If I remember correctly, we had decided that the Inquisitor and Solas were to rescue my character while teamed up with Cassandra’s character.”

“Allegra.”

“Right, and then they somehow combined their magic?”

“Oh! Oh! We were going to have them create a maelstrom with the Inquisitor’s storm magic augmented by Solas’s rift magic!”

“Andraste’s _tits_ , this stuff is strong—Would that even work? In my experience, rift magic tends to down-regulate storm magic.”

“Perhaps I could find out next time we’re in the field.”

“Yeah okay, but when can I put in the part I wrote where they go at it in the brig?”

“I thought we said you were allowed _one_ sex scene per chapter, and even then that does not guarantee we will put it in.”

Leliana had heard more than enough. Her eyes were wide with excitement and she could barely keep an enormous grin contained. As soon as she was back in the great hall, she broke into a run, taking the stairs up to Vivienne’s quarters two at a time.

“Vivienne, come with me.”

“Are you sure, darling? Is it that dire?” Vivienne raised an eyebrow, seeing that Leliana was grinning.

“Just come!” She took her hand and ran back to the hallway that led to the vault. When they were within hearing range again, Leliana crept back to the doorway, beckoning Vivienne to sit with her and listen quietly.

“Kissing her against the mast, huh? I knew you were a romantic, Cassandra, but do you really think—”

“Don’t give me that. This is my story, Varric, and if he thinks she’s about to die, don’t you think he would kiss her?”

“I just think you should be a little more judicious with the kissing. The Inquisitor is more of a hardass than this and Solas...well I just don’t see him doing that here.”

“That and they would probably be caught up in maintaining their spells, right Dorian?”

“It’s cute, but yes, it takes quite a bit of focus to keep a swirling waterspout going.”

“I do like the diction and flow of this scene, but I agree with Varric. Perhaps we can save it for another part?”

Vivienne widened her eyes and looked at Leliana. “ _You must be joking,_ ” she whispered.

Leliana grinned and gestured questioningly towards the door with her head.

Vivienne’s eyes darted back and forth a couple of times before she stood and burst through the door. “So this is what that mysterious, secret meeting was about?”

Everyone froze. Cassandra stood, let out a disgusted noise, and crossed her arms. “Yes, you found us. We’re writing a story.” Her voice dripped with bitterness. “It’s supposed to be a secret, but now you’re here and—oh sweet Andraste, Leliana too?!”

“I’m sorry, Cassandra, it’s just so cute!” Leliana giggled. “I can help you fill in any details about the Inquisitor and Solas, you know. Just say the word, and you have my eyes and ears.”

“Unbelievable.” Cassandra threw up her hands, face turning purple with rage. “Can either of you keep a secret? Or is that too much to ask?” She stalked up to Vivienne, her nostrils flaring, staring her straight in the eye.

“Darling, please calm down.” Vivienne’s face was a mask of cool calmness, but she was beginning to worry that this was a mistake.

“NO, I WILL NOT _CALM DOWN!_ WITH EVERY NEW PERSON WHO JOINS THIS PROJECT, WE RISK ANOTHER LEAK!” Cassandra slammed her fist into a nearby pillar. “And every leak increases the likelihood that the Inquisitor and Solas FIND OUT.”

“Then why write such a thing in the first place?” asked Vivienne. “It seems to me that if you can’t keep secrets, you should not create them.”

Josephine stood to give a rebuttal, but Cassandra motioned for her to stop. “ _I will not stop writing because of this_.” She stared with fiery intensity into Vivienne’s eyes for a long moment.

Vivienne’s mask of calm cracked as her eyes widened. She broke eye contact and blinked. “I...I understand, darling. My apologies.”

“Now unless you have something else to offer, you may leave,” Cassandra growled. “Leliana, you can stay.”

Vivienne stood there for a long moment as the rest of the club stared at her. “I am not especially interested in the content of this story, but should you require any knowledge of The Game, or another editor, I am happy to make myself available.” Cassandra did not respond. “I would also be glad to help ensure that secrets stay safe within the group and that any rumors, should they occur, are quashed.”

Cassandra let a beat pass; she could tell the silence bothered her. “Fair enough,” she muttered.

They settled back down, Varric handing copies of the story’s current state to Leliana and Vivienne, while Dorian poured Cassandra a shot of Fereldan cinnamon whiskey.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I believe that Fereldans have a version of Fireball whiskey, this is important.


	10. Restless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is kind of a short chapter to bridge the gap between the last leak and the setup for the next leak.

Cassandra slept in the next morning. She was hungover again, but at least she had the wherewithal to splash some water on her face before heading out the door. She trudged through the snow to the great hall, cursing the pounding in her head and the biting wind. The great hall was relatively quiet; most of the visiting dignitaries had left the day before when there was a lull in the weather. She slipped into Josephine’s office, hoping to avoid other members of the Inquisition.

“I suppose we will need to reserve that floor in the tavern after all,” said Josephine as Cassandra crossed the room and sank into a chair by her desk, covering her eyes with her forearm. Josephine edged closer so she could keep her voice down. “Would you like some tea?”

“Maker, yes,” Cassandra murmured. Josephine closed her office door behind her and returned a few minutes later with two steaming mugs. The smell of apple, cinnamon, and vanilla filled the room.

“Perhaps you should take it a bit easier on the whiskey next time, hm?” Josephine put the mug directly into Cassandra’s open hand, her other forearm still covering her face. Cassandra responded with a soft groan, which made Josephine chuckle.

They sat in silence for a while, sipping their tea, content to simply be in each other’s presence. Cassandra smiled despite her headache and low-grade nausea. She had not expected to find friendship in the Inquisition, let alone such a close friendship as the one she’d forged with Josephine.

A soft knock at the door broke the silence. Cullen let himself into Josephine’s office, closing the door behind him gently. “Maker preserve me, you’d think these insufferable nobles would be able to leave me alone before noon, at the very least,” he muttered. Cassandra and Josephine couldn’t help but chuckle.

“And here I thought Lady Estelle had left!” said Josephine, unable to suppress a smirk.

“Her sister’s still here, though.” Cullen sighed. “At least I think that’s who it is, I can’t keep them all straight.” He rubbed his temples and noticed that Cassandra was slumped in a chair with her eyes closed. “Cassandra, are you alright?”

“She’ll be fine,” said Josephine, intervening. “Was there something you needed, Cullen?”

He cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his neck. “Yes, actually, I ah, wanted to ask if you had heard from the healers about Inquisitor Lavellan’s recovery.” Cassandra opened her eyes to look at Cullen.

“I talked to the chief healer today, and she said that she would be up and about in the next day or so,” said Josephine. “She is well enough for visitors, if you would like to see her.” Cassandra noticed his ears went pink.

“I...perhaps later today. How are Solas and Blackwall?” he asked.

“I haven’t seen Solas much. I think he’s been spending most of his time in the Inquisitor’s quarters or with a bone healer. As for Blackwall, I spoke to him yesterday. He seems to be fine, though he told me he’s still been having headaches,” answered Josephine.

“I see. Thank you.” Cullen turned to leave. He peeked out the door to make sure the coast was clear, then shut the door behind him.

Josephine noticed Cassandra’s furrowed brow. “Is something the matter?”

Cassandra put her arm back over her eyes. “I...feel bad for Cullen. Being chased by nobles is not something I would relish.”

Josephine chuckled. “Indeed.” Her tone turned serious. “He seemed very concerned about Inquisitor Lavellan.”

Cassandra was hoping she wouldn’t notice that. “Haven’t we all been?”

“I suppose we have. Everything is riding on her, after all,” Josephine replied, dropping the subject. “Shall I look into reserving space in the tavern?”

“Let’s cancel tonight. I need a break.” Cassandra sunk deeper into the chair; she was halfway onto the floor at this point. “We can deal with space issues later.”

Josephine nodded. “As you wish.”

It was another hour or so before Cassandra was able to pick herself out of the chair and head back to her office. When she got there, she tried focusing on constructing a battle plan for the upcoming expedition to Emprise du Lion, but she found herself worrying about Cullen. She mulled over what she would say if she had to confront him about it, but it only made her tense. Defeated, she sighed, collected her battle plans and headed towards the Inquisitor’s quarters to discuss strategy. When she got there, she found Elessiel stretched out on her couch, talking animatedly with Cullen, who was sitting on the edge of her bed.

“...so the point is, my friend jumped too late and planted his face in a snowbank. He was lucky to get away with just a bloody nose. Our hahren was _pissed_.”

Cullen chuckled. “So you’re saying I should _not_ try to do a backflip next time we go out?”

“I’m just saying if you’re going to try something stupid, commit. Then you might actually land it, and if you land it, it doesn’t count as stupid.”

“I shall keep that in mind.” Cullen smirked, holding eye contact with Elessiel for a little longer than was necessary.

“Good afternoon, Inquisitor, Commander,” greeted Cassandra as she came up the stairs.

Cullen immediately tensed and stood up. “Good afternoon, Cassandra.”

Elessiel drifted to a sitting position, being careful not to disturb her still-healing wounds. Her upper body was still enveloped in bandages, but she wore a loose, open shirt on top of them. “Hey Cassandra,” Elessiel greeted before seeing the papers in Cassandra’s hand. “Oh no, did you bring work for me to do?”

Cassandra chuckled. “I’m afraid so, Inquisitor.”

“I suppose I will take my leave then,” said Cullen, angling for the door.

“Aw, will you come back later?” Elessiel couldn’t help but pout a little. “I want to hear about this sledding accident.”

Cullen’s ears went pink again. “I will see if I can tear myself away. Until then, take it easy, Inquisitor.”

“I’ll try.” Elessiel watched him leave.

Cassandra sat next to Elessiel on the couch. “You two seem close,” she observed.

“He’s nice and we have a lot to talk about,” said Elessiel, evidently oblivious. “He’s the only person in Skyhold other than Solas who seems to be interested in eiramishiral. It’s cool to see a human getting so into the sport.”

Cassandra blinked. “Ah, snowboarding?”

“Yeah, that’s the common tongue word for it. Sera and Iron Bull like to do it too, but they won’t talk about it with me like Cullen or Solas. Anyway, you had something to discuss?”

They went over the plans for Emprise du Lion, deciding that they would set out in a week or so, depending on how Solas’s arm was healing. The conversation didn’t last long, since they already had a sense of what the plan was.

“Hey, if you see Cullen, can you send him back up here?” asked Elessiel as Cassandra got up to leave.

Cassandra raised an eyebrow. “Not Solas?”

“Solas told me he wanted to expedite the bone healing process, so he’d be with a healer for a lot of the day. I told him he was being stupid, since I know how much that hurts, but he said he was getting tired of not being able to use his arm. I guess I can’t blame him, but can you check on him for me? I’m worried he’s going to overdo it.”

“Of course,” said Cassandra. “Do you want me to send him up if he’s feeling all right?”

“Yeah, definitely. Thanks,” said Elessiel, stretching out on the couch again, now with a book.

Cassandra strode through the rotunda on the way to Cullen’s office, and found Solas lying on his own couch. He was pale as death, drawing short breaths, his brow furrowed in pain. His arm was still bound, but no longer in a sling. He heard Cassandra’s footsteps and moved to sit up.

“Be still, you look like you need the rest. How are you feeling?” she asked, kneeling beside him.

Solas let his head drop back onto the couch. “I’ve been better. How is Elessiel?”

“She should be ready to head out by the end of the week,” replied Cassandra.

“Then I shall try my best to catch up,” Solas murmured.

“That’s what she’s worried about.” Cassandra furrowed her brow. “Bone healing is not trivial. Do you need anything?”

“I am fine. Thank you, Cassandra.”

Cassandra frowned. “Please don’t push yourself too hard, Solas.” Solas nodded, closed his eyes, and exhaled slowly as Cassandra stood to leave.


	11. Double Wildcats

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The conditions Elessiel's been pining for are still out there, and the snow nerds finally get to go out and enjoy them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [In case you wanted a reminder, I talk about my headcanons on Dalish snowboarding here](http://icetigris.tumblr.com/post/106494410961/dalish-snowboarding-is-a-thing-and-you-cannot). Both the content and timing of this chapter are more evidence that I have zero self-control.

The rest of the week was uneventful. Elessiel divided her time between catching up with correspondence and other Inquisition duty, and dealing with healers, while Solas continued to push himself too hard with bone healing. This resulted in more than a few tongue-lashings from Elessiel, but they were both glad that he was completely healed a couple of days before they planned on setting out for Emprise du Lion. Cassandra had temporarily cancelled all friendfiction club meetings until after she got back from the expedition so she didn’t have to deal with leak mitigation, sleep deprivation, or hangovers before heading out.

Cassandra caught Elessiel running through the great hall with a bag full of gear slung over her shoulder and a huge smile on her face. “Good morning, Inquisitor. You seem excited,” she observed.

Elessiel laughed. “Solas, Cullen, Iron Bull and I are hitting the slopes. You want to come?”

Cassandra furrowed her brow. “Are you sure that’s wise? You and Solas just finished recovering and we set out for Emprise du Lion tomorrow.”

“We’ll take it easy. C’mon, it’ll be fun!”

Cassandra considered the offer. She was already packed and ready to go for the expedition. “I think I will pass on actually participating, but I wouldn’t mind watching for a little while.”  _Might as well get some more story material._

Elessiel grinned. “Cool! Come on, let’s go find everyone else.” Cassandra tailed her as she jumped down the stairs to the courtyard where Cullen was already waiting. He flashed a crooked smile at Elessiel, but tempered it when he saw Cassandra behind her.

“These conditions are pretty nice,” he began, not really planning to open with that line.

“Yeah, it’s a little crunchy on top, but it should be great on the north face of the mountain.” Elessiel dropped her gear bag in the snow and jumped straight up in the air. “Ahh, I’m so excited! It’s been way too long since we last did this.”

Cullen couldn’t keep himself from smiling widely, but caught himself once he saw a hooded figure padding down the stairs behind Cassandra. “Ah, looks like Solas is here.”

“Good morning. I see you’re excited to head out, Elessiel,” said Solas, putting a hand on her back.

She flashed him a crooked grin. “You know I always am.”

Cullen looked away, in the direction of the tavern, presumably from where Iron Bull would be coming. “What’s taking Iron Bull so long?” he grumbled.

“Our qunari friend is usually the last one up. At least when it’s not you,” said Solas, nudging Elessiel.

“Oh, you’re one to talk, Ser Fade Expert,” mocked Elessiel.

Cullen redirected his attention to Cassandra. “Will you be joining us on the slopes, Cassandra?”

“Just to watch. I want to keep an eye on everyone. The last thing we need right now is more injuries.”

“Indeed,” said Cullen.

“Ah, good, you’re all ready to go,” Iron Bull called from across the courtyard. “I took the liberty of getting the harts set up.” Iron Bull trotted over to the group with his gear on his shoulder. “Oh, hey Cassandra, I didn’t know you were coming. Let me get another hart for you.”

“You want to share one?” Elessiel asked Solas. He smiled and nodded. “Don’t worry about it, Bull!” she called back to him. Elessiel strapped her gear to Cassandra’s hart before joining Solas on his. Cassandra watched the four of them talk about technique, acutely aware of the tension in Cullen’s posture.

It was a short ride to the north face of the peak; the sun was just coming up over the walls of Skyhold as they arrived. Cassandra found a nice spot to sit and watch while the others planned their lines down the mountain and strapped in. Iron Bull was the first to go, falling flat on his face a few times before finding a rhythm. He cut a wide, meandering path across the mountain, not quite confident in his ability to link turns. Meanwhile, Elessiel and Solas were practically racing each other down the mountain, finding snowbanks to do tricks on, and spraying each other with snow. Cullen tried to keep up with them, but more often than not, he found himself landing flat on his back. Elessiel hung back on some of her runs to check on Cullen and teach him how to link tighter turns and land jumps.

Cassandra enjoyed watching them, despite the cold. One of the harts decided it was done for the day after an hour or two and curled up next to her. Iron Bull was the next to end the day, sitting next to Cassandra and the hart after a particularly nasty fall around midday.

“Are you alright, Bull?”

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Just hit my ass a little too hard on the last run.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Well, it looks like you were having fun at least.”

“Yeah, this Dalish thing is great! Too bad we don’t get snow up in Par Vollen.” Iron Bull grabbed a handful of snow to eat to quench his thirst. They watched Cullen screw up another jump and land on his face for probably the tenth time that day. “I think Cullen’s trying too hard.”

Cassandra nodded in agreement. 

“It’s like he’s trying to impress the Boss or something,” mused Iron Bull. Cassandra didn’t respond. “He’s got a lot of work to do before he gets as good as her. Or Solas for that matter. He’s got style.”

It was mid-afternoon when they all decided to pack it in and head back to Skyhold. Elessiel and Solas were winded, but talking animatedly about their last couple of runs. Cullen was exhausted and seemed to be in some pain. As they packed up their gear, Cassandra noticed Elessiel going over to check on Cullen, who’d flopped onto his back.

“Are you okay? You had a lot of rough falls towards the end there,” said Elessiel.

“I’ll be alright.” Cullen chuckled. “I _did_ try to take your advice on committing when trying to do something stupid.”

Elessiel gave him a half smile. “That’s good, and it was cool to see you land a few, but you should be more careful. I was really worried after that last fall, I thought you’d really hurt yourself.” Cassandra saw the puppy dog eyes he was giving her from several feet away. 

Cullen slowly pulled himself to his feet. He moved to rub the back of his neck, but winced and stopped mid-movement. “I didn’t mean to make you worry. I’ll try to be more careful.”

“Despite the falls, you seem to be making good progress, Commander,” said Solas. “Elessiel is right though, you should be more careful.”

Cullen cleared his throat and mounted his hart. “I appreciate the feedback.”

It was late afternoon when they arrived back at Skyhold. Elessiel and Solas went to finish preparations for the next day’s expedition, while Iron Bull went to the tavern for something hot and alcoholic. Cassandra pulled Cullen aside on the way back to his office. “Cullen, may I speak with you for a moment?”

“Of course, what’s on your mind?” His ears and nose were red from the cold, but Cassandra saw some of the color drain from his face. 

“About Inquisitor Lavellan…” Cassandra _knew_. Others in the Inquisition were beginning to notice. But did she really want to confront him now? Did she need to?

“Yes?” Cullen shifted on his feet.

“I...think she’s right. You need to be more careful out there.” _Dammit_. 

Cullen chuckled. Or was it a sigh of relief? “I suppose three votes of confidence should be enough to drive the point home. Alright, I will certainly try. I suppose I should see one of the healers, just in case...”

“Thank you, Cullen.” _I’ll have to deal with this eventually._

“You head out to Emprise du Lion tomorrow, right?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re planning on investigating some Red Templar activity,” replied Cassandra.

“Good. Keep me posted. I want to know what those bastards are up to out there.”

“I will send daily reports. We will be there for at least a week, most likely.”

Cullen nodded. “Good luck.”

Cassandra thanked him and left to meet with Josephine. Though the friendfiction club had not been meeting formally, many of the members were still writing in their spare time and turning in their drafts to Josephine.

“How was the snow?” asked Josephine. “Inquisitor Lavellan just came by to tell me about it.”

Cassandra chuckled. “It was fun to watch. I have quite a bit of new material to work with.”

“Oh?” A wicked smile spread across Josephine’s face. “Do tell.”

Cassandra gave her the short version, and they discussed where to put such a scenario into the current plotline. “I’ll speak with Varric about fitting it somewhere in the middle. He’s coming with us tomorrow, so I should be able to send you another draft with my reports from the field.”

“Excellent, I look forward to reading it,” said Josephine. “I also spoke with Leliana today, her spies will be available to track your group if you so desire.”

Cassandra smirked. “Perhaps the last leak was a fortunate mistake after all,” she mused. “I will keep you posted.” She turned to leave.

“Oh, and Cassandra?”

She turned back toward Josephine and cocked her head.

“Do be careful out there.”

Cassandra smiled. “I will try.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also fyi, a double wildcat is a snowboarding trick :)))


	12. Field Observations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cassandra and Varric go out in the field with Elessiel and Solas and get a chance to observe their behavior, including how they handle stressful situations.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been stupid busy lately (in planes like half the time) so apologies for the huge time gap. It took me a long time to come up with something I was reasonably happy with. Elessiel swears like a sailor (as do I), so I tried to convert my usual style of swearing liberally into Thedosian type stuff. Also, in case you're wondering, I spec'd Elessiel as Winter/Storm/Knight Enchanter (though she did get some points in Inferno), and Solas is Spirit/Inferno/Rift Mage (obviously).
> 
> Refresher on some Elven phrases:  
> [god] enansal = Bless/thank [god]  
> [god] ma halani = [god] help me

They set out for Emprise du Lion early the next morning with no small amount of complaining from Inquisitor Lavellan.

“Why do we do this to ourselves,” she grumbled, her breath rising in the pre-dawn chill. “It’s too gods-damn early.”

“I don’t like it either, Spitfire, but you know as well as I do that it’s either this, or arrive at camp at midnight,” said Varric.

“And then we would have to deal with wolves,” said Cassandra.

Elessiel planted her face in the back of her hart’s neck while groaning. “Dread wolf take me sideways, I’m so fuckin’ sore.”

Solas chuckled. “It was your idea to ride the mountain yesterday, if I recall.”

“Are you _not_ sore?” Elessiel shot him an incredulous look. “You were riding just as hard as I was.”

Cassandra and Varric exchanged wide-eyed looks.

“A bit, but perhaps not enough to paint such a colorful mental image,” Solas responded with a smirk. “A hot bath does wonders for muscle soreness.”

Elessiel heaved a colossal sigh. “I could go for a hot bath right now. Or another 8 hours curled up in bed. Both would be ideal.”

“Indeed, I would like nothing better.” Solas said, locking eyes with Elessiel. “But we have the better part of a day’s journey ahead of us; perhaps we should discuss something else.”

She let a beat pass. “Did I ever tell you about this one time I caught a frog and it peed on my hand?”

“That’s not exactly what I had in mind,” Solas deadpanned.

“Well it’s either that or me whining for the next hour and a half, so take your pick.”

“You are almost as bad as Sera sometimes.”

The morning flew by, laughter bearing them on their way. The four of them exchanged stories that ranged from the fantastic to the disgusting to the ridiculous. When they stopped to water the harts and take a break around midday, Cassandra slipped away to record the highlights. She passed Varric a copy when Elessiel and Solas weren’t looking.

“Seeker,” Varric whispered, indicating some dark specks on the hillside. “She’s got eyes on us.”

Cassandra grinned wickedly.

“Hey, are you guys ready?” Elessiel called, already back on her hart.

“Coming!”

They made good time, arriving at the Sahrnia camp in the late afternoon. Scout Harding greeted Elessiel while Cassandra and Varric handed their reports off to one of the courier scouts.

“...The Red Templars have been mounting frequent attacks. They want Emprise du Lion. Bad. Let’s get out there and take it back from them.”

Elessiel nodded. “We’ve got a few hours of daylight left, let’s make good use of them.”

They headed north towards the frozen Elfsblood River. Cassandra noticed Elessiel rubbing her marked hand.

“There are some rifts nearby,” she observed.

“How close?" asked Cassandra.

“Close enough that I know we don't want to make camp anywhere near here. Let's check out that tower over there, then head south.”

They crept up the far side of the island, around the back of the tower. “It looks like there's an apostate encampment up ahead, one of the loose ends the Seekers left behind before disappearing," said Cassandra.

“Shall we?” asked Varric, cocking his crossbow.

“Yeah, let's waste 'em,” said Elessiel, unstrapping her staff and tearing down the path. Solas barely had enough time to cast a barrier for her before she started throwing lightning at the unsuspecting fugitives.

Cassandra charged forward, her duty as a Seeker trumping her desire to observe Elessiel and Solas. Magic and arrows flew in all directions, but her focus was unshakable. She put a sword through an enemy, pulled it out, spun around, and used the momentum to decapitate another. She heard and felt a column of ice erupt behind her.

“Watch out, Cassandra!” called Elessiel, frost still flowing from her fingertips.

Cassandra shattered the poor bastard with a well-placed shield bash, ducked, and rolled out of the blast zone of one of Solas’s stonefists. Another frozen target shattered on impact, the stone and ice shards shredding a nearby archer.

They made quick work of the rest of them. Elessiel and Cassandra dealt the bulk of the damage up front, while Varric and Solas provided support and combo-finishers from farther away.

"Gordon the Frank. Human trafficker," Cassandra spat, turning over a severed head with her foot. "We have been hunting this scum for some time," said Cassandra as they sheathed their weapons. “Thank you for bringing us here.”

"My pleasure. I remember you mentioning it and figured we should investigate," said Elessiel.

Cassandra smiled. "I appreciate it."

They turned south, Elessiel leading the pack. Varric shivered as they came to the top of a hill. "It's getting pretty late. You have an idea of where we're setting camp yet, Spitfire?"

"That area down there looks fairly protected," said Elessiel.

"Oh, you mean that fortification crawling with Red Templars and festooned with red lyrium? Yeah, _protected_ is one way to put it," Varric scoffed.

"Yeah, well, that's probably the group that's been wrecking Sahrnia, so I think it’s in everyone’s best interest that we clear them out," said Elessiel. “I’d also be willing to bet those assholes are part of the Red Templar cell Cullen wanted investigated.”

“I agree that it would be a good place to camp if we can rout them, but be on your guard,” Solas cautioned. “I would like to avoid a repeat of the end of our last expedition.”

Cassandra observed the pair: Elessiel was lost in thought, watching the Red Templars, planning their movements, while Solas studied her, reverence and worry flickering in his eyes.

“I’m thinking we use the entrance to their camp as a choke point and try to lure them out. Cassandra, let’s head into the camp together and deal frontline damage. I’ll be at midrange while you try to get them to cluster. Solas, Varric, you guys hang back and support from long range. You can use the outside of the fence for cover,” said Elessiel.

“That is much too dangerous. You should stay at long range so that—”

Elessiel looked him dead in the eye. “We both know these bastards are resistant to fire, which leaves you limited to rift magic and defensive support. I’m the ice mage here and I need the extra reach into their camp.”

Solas frowned. “Vhenan, please—”

Elessiel raised her hand to cut him off again. “This isn’t like last time. Don’t argue with me about it, we need to get moving here.”

Cassandra knew Elessiel was a take-no-shit kind of person, but she raised an eyebrow at her reaction to Solas’s concern. Varric, unfazed, reached for his crossbow and followed Elessiel towards the encampment without missing a beat. Cassandra shrugged it off and followed him, but Solas caught her arm.

“Please keep her safe, Seeker.”

Cassandra’s heart leapt into her throat. _Maker, how romantic!_ “I will, but I do not think you need to be so worried, Solas.” He broke eye contact and nodded, unconvinced.

Within minutes, they were in position, and the fighting began in earnest. Cassandra charged into the encampment first to draw their fire, Elessiel following a few yards behind with lightning and ice. Varric rained poisoned arrows down on the charging Red Templars while Solas maintained barriers for everyone. They dispatched the first few waves without any trouble, but as the battle wore on, they began to lose steam.

Cassandra cried out as she caught a pommel strike in the gut. Varric put an arrow in her attacker’s head in return, but their line had already been broken. Two swordsmen and an archer headed straight for Elessiel. Solas called to her, but she ignored  him. She was caught up in the action. She raised an ice wall and knocked the swordsmen off their feet, then froze the archer. Solas fired a stonefist at the archer, shattering them into gory pieces.

Elessiel saw Solas moving towards her. “Hold your positions!” she called back to Solas and Varric as she fired frozen projectiles at the swordsmen. She didn’t notice the shadow behind her.

“Elessiel!” Solas ran to a close enough range to cast flashfire. The assassin screamed as the flames engulfed them, and was silenced by a staff blade in the neck. A heavily armored warrior charged past Elessiel, and crashed into Solas, knocking him backwards. He rolled away, narrowly dodging a sword strike, and jumped to his feet to restore Elessiel’s barrier. Her lightning flashed all around him.

“Dammit, Solas! Pull back!” Elessiel shouted over her shoulder. She was surrounded by Red Templars. Solas charged forward and cast a mind blast to give Elessiel some space. “That’s a _fucking_ order!”

He backed up, but only a few yards. Cassandra charged back towards Elessiel to break up the cluster around her and draw their fire. As Cassandra brought their front backwards, Elessiel followed suit, Fade-stepping several yards behind where Solas lingered. He realized too late that he was far too close to the frontline fray. One of the swordsmen broke off from the cluster around Cassandra. Solas had been casting high-cost spells in rapid succession and didn’t have enough mana for a mind blast or Fade step to cover his escape. The Red Templar swordsman charged forward and plunged his sword into Solas’s chest.

Elessiel narrowly dodged an arrow, her focus broken by Solas’s strangled scream. Her eyes widened at the sight of a Templar longsword sticking through his back, shining red with blood. The Red Templar kicked Solas in the chest to dislodge his blade and readied a killing blow. Elessiel rushed forward with a battlecry, and cast an overcharged chain lightning spell. She channeled nearly all of her mana—far more than she needed—into electrocuting the surrounding Red Templars. Nearby corpses twitched violently from the excess current arcing across the battlefield. “Fen _fucking_ Harel, Solas, I TOLD you to stay back!” she shouted as she ran to his side.

“Ma serranas,” she heard him say between ragged breaths.

“Don’t fucking thank me, just stay alive,” she spat, uncorking a lyrium potion. She downed the whole vial, broke the glass against her staff, and jammed it in a charging Red Templar’s face.

Varric moved up to cover the rear as Cassandra charged forward again to deal with what was hopefully the last wave. Elessiel was casting as fast as her mana would regenerate, with limited support from Solas. He was able to keep her barrier up and cast the occasional stonefist, but he had to lean heavily on his staff between casting. His hand was clamped over the wound and he didn’t have enough mana to fight and heal himself at the same time.

Cassandra dispatched the last zealot and ran back to Elessiel and Solas. Varric was already there.

“Ir abelas,” Solas wheezed. Blood oozed down his chin; he’d been coughing it up for the past few minutes.

“Do you think I’m fucking around when I give an order?!” she snapped as she slung his arm over her shoulder. “Andruil ma halani, have some faith. I’m not in this shit for the glory.” Cassandra and Varric exchanged looks over Elessiel’s rage. She huffed a frustrated sigh and turned to them. “Can you two set up camp?” Elessiel’s voice cracked ever so slightly; she swallowed thickly and pursed her lips into a thin line.

“Of course, let us know if you need anything,” Cassandra replied, going straight to work. She and Varric had a million observations to discuss, but they would have to wait. Lucky for them, the Red Templars had left some perfectly good tents set up around the camp’s perimeter, so they focused on building a fire, cooking dinner, and finding some elfroot to help Elessiel heal Solas.

Cassandra gathered firewood and kindling as quickly as she could and set up near enough to be within earshot of the tents. She told herself it was for convenience, but that wasn’t the only reason.

“I can’t believe you,” said Elessiel.

“You almost caught a dagger in the back!” Solas retorted.

“Yeah, well you _actually_ caught a sword in the chest! Elgar’nan’s asshole, you can’t just throw tactics out the window because I got hurt last time.”

“I do not doubt your abilities, but I could not bear the thought of seeing you in that condition again,” he said.

“Then how the fuck do you think I feel?! I saw a sword go—” Elessiel’s voice cracked and she couldn’t finish the sentence.

Cassandra heard a pained grunt, which she could only assume was Elessiel healing Solas in a less than gentle fashion. Varric returned with a couple of nugs and some elfroot. _How are they?_ he mouthed. Cassandra replied by widening her eyes and grimacing.

He exhaled a silent chuckle. “How romantic,” he whispered. They busied themselves with dinner prep and writing down highlights, exchanging notes in relative silence. Cassandra made sure to keep friendfiction notes out of sight whenever possible, tucking them into an envelope for safekeeping. Elessiel emerged from the tent just as Varric was scooping stew into bowls.

“How is he?” asked Varric, handing her a bowl.

“He’ll be fine, y’know, if I don’t kill him myself,” she replied. Elessiel wolfed down a few bites before elaborating. “We should try to take it easy tomorrow, but it’s a relatively uncomplicated injury, so it’s healing fast.”

“That’s good. How are you feeling?” asked Cassandra.

Elessiel blinked. “Me? I’m okay, I’m just pissed.” She inhaled the rest of her stew and went to fill a bowl for Solas. “I know he cares about me, but sometimes he’s an idiot about it.”

“Love makes people stupid, Spitfire,” said Varric.

Elessiel chuckled and wrinkled her nose. “Evidently. Mythal ma halani, I wish he’d swallow his damn pride and do the smart thing sometimes.” She stood up to go back to Solas’s tent. “Anyway, thanks for making dinner and setting up the rest of camp.”

“Don’t mention it,” said Varric. “Oh, but if you’re going to be up for a while, I brought a skin of spiced wine. I’ll heat it up in a bit,” he added.

“Oh, nice! Yeah, I’ll be back for some of that,” said Elessiel.

Varric winked at Cassandra once Elessiel’s back was turned.

“Did you really…?”

“Figured I’d continue the tradition,” Varric replied with a sly grin, pulling out the skin and his latest pages of text.

“You’re insane.” Cassandra took the pages and settled next to him to read.

Varric put the wine on to heat and set a bottle of aqua ink next to her. “For edits and comments, in lieu of verbal communication.” The corner of her mouth quirked up in response, but she was already lost in the writing.

Cassandra wasn’t sure how much time had passed, but she was about a third of the way through the new pages when Varric nudged her hand with a cup of hot wine. They heard some laughter coming from the tent.

“Sounds like all is forgiven,” said Varric. Cassandra chuckled and hid the pages in her bag, hearing the tent flap rustling. Elessiel walked over and sat down next to the fire. Varric handed her a mug and moved to pour another.

“Solas doesn’t want any, which is just as well, because I need at least two of these,” said Elessiel. She chugged about half her mug and exhaled with a satisfied sigh.

“Whoa, take it easy there,” cautioned Varric, only half-serious.

“Man, I earned this. Healing is thirsty work.” Elessiel warmed her face over the mug for a moment. “You two have been awfully quiet out here, what have you been up to?”

Cassandra blanched. “Just writing some reports for the Nightingale. Nothing you don’t already know about,” said Varric.

“Aw, that’s no fun. Is that colored ink? Man, I want to draw something.” Varric handed her a pen, a blank page, and the bottle of green ink he’d been using for editing. She doodled a couple of dragons and a halla while sipping her drink and listening to one of Varric’s stories about Hawke.

“...So then she said, ‘looks like he was just a fish out of water’!”

Elessiel giggle-snorted and downed the remaining contents of her mug. “Hawke sounds like an absolute delight, I hope we get to spend more time together. With that, though, I should probably go to bed.” Elessiel headed back to the tent with a slight wobble.

“G’night, Spitfire.”

Cassandra released a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. “You alright there, Seeker?”

“That was close,” she replied.

Varric shrugged. “Eh, not as close as you think. Relax. I think we’re safe as long as we keep our voices down.”

“In that case,” Cassandra began, digging a page of notes out of her bag. “What do you think of this? Today was certainly eventful.”

Varric skimmed the outline and notes and added a few of his own. “I think there’s a lot to work with here. I think we can drop this in an envelope for Ruffles.”

“I...do feel a bit bad about Solas getting injured, but Elessiel’s reactions were very...illuminating,” Cassandra admitted, blush coloring her cheeks.

Varric patted her shoulder. “The main thing is that they’ll both be fine. Beyond that, good content is good content.”

“That’s a little sociopathic.”

Varric couldn’t suppress a laugh. “Let’s be honest here, you have to be just a little bit of a sociopath to write this sort of thing.”

“I suppose…” she replied, not entirely convinced.

“Think of it this way: we’re making the best of a bad situation. At the end of the day, they’re okay, and that’s all that matters.” Varric sealed an envelope and handed it back to Cassandra. “Shall we signal for one of our friends?”

“You mean…?”

Varric indicated a point of light on a nearby cliffside. “We can get rid of this evidence tonight, if you like.”

Cassandra grabbed a long stick and handed it to Varric to use as a torch.

“Figured you’d be interested in that,” he said with a chuckle. He set the torch off to the side and waited for a messenger bird. It landed on Varric’s arm and he loaded it with as many envelopes as it could carry. “I think we may need another.”

Cassandra chuckled. “Josephine will be pleased.” Another bird landed on the ground near the torch. “Oh, I should attach the report for Cullen.” Cassandra rummaged for the envelope she’d labeled for him, sealed it, and attached it to the bird. “I think that’s everything.”

Varric raised his mug. “To a job well-done.”

Cassandra smiled and bumped her mug against his. “Here’s hoping tomorrow is a bit less eventful.”

“Here here.”

They drained their cups and set about getting ready for bed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That story about catching the frog and it peeing on my hand is true.


End file.
